Trust Me I'm Deceitful
by TheVillainsAdvocate
Summary: Modern day AU for Jasmine and Jafar. Jasmine is a freshmen college student and Jafar renowned Chemistry Professor. Includes several other Disney characters such as Esmeralda and Ariel. Rated M for language, smut, violence , and possible triggers.
1. Chapter One

Summer was coming to a close in the middle of August; the grass already drying out to a dull brownish hue. It had been an extremely windy season with spurts of hail storms, grass fires, and droughts. Some were sad to see the erratic summer come to a close – namely the students – whereas others, like Jasmine, were relieved it was finally over.

She had spent the last three months after high school graduation working in her father's company after he broke his leg at the start of summer. Not that she minded – it was a privilege to be given such regal responsibilities as acting CEO of a toy factory. But, her father's injury was severe which meant Jasmine had to look after him as well and left jasmine without a social life of any sort. Needless to say, going back to school would be a pleasant change of scenery.

At the same time, however Jasmine felt terrified to leave her father alone ever again.

His injury had happened the day after graduation while Jasmine had been at a party. He'd fallen down the stairs and laid there helpless until a neighbor luckily stopped by. Jasmine still hadn't forgiven herself for not being there.

They had hired a CNA for the first month after his surgery. (His tibia had broken in three places and he had to have screws put into his leg.) While the added help of a visiting nurse assistant had been a godsend, they couldn't afford to keep Lucia more than a few weeks.

On the plus side, Hamed had gotten the cast off a few days ago, and was now in physical therapy. But that still meant Jasmine needed to be there for him to cook, clean, and overall make sure he was okay and had help with whatever he needed. She loved taking care of him – but all things considered Jasmine had little time to focus on her own responsibilities and to-do list.

Which had now rendered Jasmine with the predicament she was currently in. I.e. scrambling last minute to choose her college courses.

"Jaz, sound good?" Ariel looked expectantly to Jasmine from across the mall cafeteria table, opening and closing her hands on her hot chocolate.

Jasmine looked up from her laptop completely unaware of what her friends had been talking about. "Hmm?"

"The party tonight – Ariel's boyfriend is gonna have it at his place. You in?" Esmeralda twirled Thai noodles on the end of her fork, hardly taking a moment to look up from the task as she spoke. Jasmine winced hating the thought of leaving her father after what happened the last time.

"Oh, come on, please?" Ariel's childlike-wonder expressions were capable of reversing the earth's rotation and making the sun appear in the darkest of nights. Making it hard for Jasmine to say no. "Jasmine, it would mean the world to me to have my two _best friends_ there."

Esmeralda looked up through the tops of her eyes at Jasmine and shook her head no at Ariel's last phrase. Not everyone was enamored with Ariel's innate sense of zealous wonderment. Jasmine stifled a laugh.

"I don't know Ariel, my papa will be home from therapy tonight and I just – don't think its good to be away from him." Jasmine chewed her cheek at seeing Ariel's fallen expression. "But – I will try okay? I just need to finish enrolling first."

"You haven't enrolled!" Esmeralda accidentally spat a few have mushed bits of noodle onto the table. Jasmine's face pinched. "School starts Monday! Most students pick their classes in June. There's no way you'll find any classes that have slots left."

"Well, unless someone withdraws. Plus, you can always be on a waiting list and go to the class the first few weeks to see if anyone drops out then too. Students are always doing stuff like that." Ariel beamed always the optimist taking note of Esmeralda's cynical expression. "Or, whatever you choose Jasmine. But there are options."

Jasmine nodded rubbing her hand over her bare knee, a few bristles pricking the palm of her hand. "I think I have to settle on belly dance, world mythology, and . . . introductory chemistry. They had a last minute drop out it looks like, only one slot open."

Ariel straightened, chest puffed and head held high as she gave another one of her dazzling grins, "See. I knew it would work out."

"Calm down bubble gum princess. It just happened to work out. Doesn't mean everything will just because you wish it to." Esmeralda wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and stood to toss their trash. Jasmine laughed throatily as Ariel giggled taking Esmeralda's gruff exterior as a form of love.

Jasmine finalized her class choices with the submit button, and emailed a copy of her schedule to herself before her an Ariel followed Esmeralda's lead and headed out of the mall. Jasmine gave Ariel a tight hug, and Esmeralda accepted a side one. The red head jovially climbed into her car – Jasmine and Esmeralda were both unfortunate enough not to have one – and reminded them the party started at nine.

"Want a ride? It's really no problem at all girls." She beamed rolling down her passenger window.

Jasmine did in fact want a ride home, her feet were sore from her flats and she needed to get home in time to make her father a gluten-dairy-soy-free meal. But Esmeralda, being proud as she was, answered for the both of them.

"Nah – we're good walking. But thanks Ariel." Esmeralda smiled, "See you tonight."

"Okie dokie – see ya ladies." Ariel waved and pulled out of the lot. Jasmine and Esmeralda making their way through the small town and towards their houses.

Jasmine clutched her stomach as she walked, her head down as she watched the cracks and lopsided pavement where roots and weather had dug up the cement over the years; little green weeds and dandelions sprouting up from the crevices.

"So, do you wanna meet at my house before we head over tonight? Or should I come to you?" The green-eyed beauty ran slender fingers through her mass of hair, strutting as if she owned the world. Esmeralda always walked in that manner and Jasmine attempted to do the same. Except for now.

She was over stressed and college hadn't even begun. Plus, Jasmine would have to start work again soon at NaNa's café. A family owned restaurant that Jasmine and her father had gone to traditionally three times a week since she was five. Jasmine knew Mimi would understand Jasmine's schedule and be lenient when scheduling shifts – but still, the thought of working part time while going to school full time and still keeping tabs on her father's wellbeing might become a balancing act she couldn't handle.

"Maybe I won't go tonight – I don't know."

Esmeralda pulled a face and stopped walking. "Jasmine listen. I know you have a lot going on right now. I get it. I understand. Life sucks sometimes – but what happened to your dad wasn't your fault. And it's not your responsibility to look after him every second the rest of his life."

Jasmine shrugged feeling a chill of guilt sting underneath her eyes. "I know," she whispered, "But had I not been drunk at a party, I would've been there to help him once it happened."

"Okay, but you made up for it by now. You've cut out drinking, partying, and hanging out with your friends _all_ summer. It's time to get back to your old self and live life a little. You've done your part – Hamed will be okay now."

Jasmine smiled and took up walking again, Esmeralda slipped the crook of her arm into Jasmine's.

"Alright – your house. Are you foster parents still out of town?"

"Mm-hmm. We can get ready at my place and pregame a little too." Esmeralda made a mischievous face, pulling into Jasmine's side as she lowered her voice mimicking a sneaky criminal. Jasmine eased a little, reassuring herself it would be okay to take one night to herself. It was after all the last weekend of summer, and she assumed she deserved this – guilt free.

When jasmine got home she made dinner, tidied the house, got changed, and made sure that she had a clear to go out tonight. _"Of course, dearest! I was thinking the same thing. Go, go! You deserve a night off."_ Hamed had said a little too eagerly.

She had told him it was a party and where and with whom. She hated lying and never did – the only part she left out was the fact that alcohol and recreational drugs were usually involved. She knew he would say yes, but she didn't think he'd say yes that fervently.

Even with his persistent approval, Jasmine couldn't help but feel every shade of guilt as she walked the five blocks it took to get to Esmeralda's house – her thoughts flashing back to his accident. Hamed had been stuck on the bottom of the steps with his bone protruding from his skin for nearly two hours before anyone found him. And where had she been? Jasmine had been lap dancing one of the football quarter backs, Gaston, in her pushup bra and a denim mini skirt. A fact that she wouldn't otherwise remember had she not linked it to her father's crippling downfall. A fact she would always have to live with hanging over her head.

 _Go home, and forget about the stupid party. It was so hard to walk away from that lifestyle. Don't go plunging back into it._ She set aside the voice and hurried on.

Jasmine came to a narrow Victorian style purple home. The paint was chipped, the shingles outdated and weathered, and the front lawn overrun with bald patches and weeds. Jasmine still found it beautiful though, and liked its character in comparison to the dull white and gold color of her own home. After a few raps on the door Esmeralda answered, a white towel barely clinging to her curvaceous wet body as soaked hair clung to her glistening neck.

Jasmine nearly jumped backwards trying to look away. "Christ Esme, you couldn't get dressed first!" Jasmine laughed, keeping her eyes heavenward.

"Okay, don't pretend you haven't seen way more of me before," Esmeralda stepped aside allowing Jasmine to enter. "I'll have you know men _and_ women have offered to _pay_ to see me in just a towel. So you're getting quit the deal, Jaz."

"Oh, Lord," Jasmine gave a guttural laugh that echoed through the empty house as she made way to the backroom; Esmeralda closing the front door and following after to finish getting ready.

Within a little over an hour both were ready; makeup, jewelry, tight skimpy dresses, and beautiful jet black hair done up. They were a damn good looking pair. Jasmine fastened a golden earring in her lobe when Esmeralda checked her phone, announcing with fervent excitement the party started soon, and they should take a celebratory shot before leaving. Esmeralda left the room and came back with two filled shot glasses. They cheered clanking the glasses together before tossing the clear fluid back.

"Ouch," Jasmine grimaced before wincing in pain, "What the hell is that?"

"Moonshine. Jerry makes it and stores it in the basement. Good shit huh?"

Jasmine coughed trying to clear the burning from her throat, "It'll put hair on your chest, that's for damn sure." She took another drink, and instantly felt tingling all the way through to her gold painted toes.

"Know what we need tonight?" Esmeralda added a final touchup to her blushed cheeks, speaking no Jasmine through the mirror. "A code word."

Jasmine made a face. What kind of trouble were they expected to get into tonight? Jasmine hadn't been part of that scene for a while now and felt uneasy about getting caught up in drama so soon.

Esmeralda suggested with her hands, "You know? In case one of us needs help to get away from a creeper. Or maybe if one of us wants to hook up with someone else,"

"Why would we need a code for that?"

"To make sure no one cock blocks us." She smiled coyly.

Jasmine shrugged heading out of the bathroom with Esmeralda in tow as they went to put on their heels. The taxi lights flashed through the front windows as it pulled up and Jasmine handed Esmeralda her clutch.

"I guess that I could rub my ear lobe. Like," Jasmine tugged on her ear in demonstration, "Something like that for an 'I need help escaping,' signal."

Esmeralda laughed as they stepped outside as she locked up the door.

"And if we want to hook up with someone?"

Jasmine shook her head with a roll of her eyes, "One step at a time." They slid inside the backseat and gave directions to the uptown neighborhood where Eric lived. "All I want to do is get drunk, see some of our crew and go home." Jasmine finished stating as the cab headed down the poorly lit street.

Esmeralda crossed her long tan legs, the skin-tight dress riding up on her thighs. "No problem babe. You and me tonight kay? When you're ready to go, we'll go."

Jasmine smiled and rode out the remainder of the ride giggling with Esmeralda and catching up on all the gossip she'd missed out on over the summer. The moonshine took swift effect as intoxication greeted Jasmine like an old friend – she'd forgotten how good it felt to let go, and remembered why she had done it so often in the past.

* * *

Def Leppard, "Pour some sugar on me," Was blaring from a three-story home when the cab pulled up to the curb. Jasmine and Esmeralda exited shutting the car doors as they came around to the passenger side; where the window rolled down expectantly. The two bent over looking inside at the driver.

"That was some ride," Esmeralda said in a smoky low set tone and looked over the man's round belly flirtatiously.

The dark-skinned man leaned back, smiling bashfully at the playful comment. "Twenty-five dollars, ladies," his deep voice rumbled, but it was full of kindness.

Jasmine held out a wad of cash, and he took one end of it between his fingers, while Jasmine kept a hold on the other, refusing to let go so easily. She bit her lip, and smiled, tugging on the cash gently to tease him.

"Come on now girls," he said still grinning, his large dark eyes looking from one to the other. Esmeralda leaned half her body into the car and stole a look at the hanging ID tag from the rearview mirror.

"Paul, is it?"

With a slow cautious smile, he replied, "It is."

"That's a good lookin' picture there, Paul," She leaned in a little further, her pelvis cutting into the edge of the window, "Would you like a kiss, _Paul_? I haven't kissed a gentleman in a long time."

Paul's smile never cleared, even as shock forced his white brows to rise. Both Jasmine and Esmeralda held their breath, Paul's thumb and forefinger still clinging to the other end of the cash. Just when they thought it wouldn't work, Paul bellowed a hearty laugh, pulled the wad of cash from Jasmine's hand, and took only five dollars from it, before giving back the rest.

Esmeralda broke into a beautiful smile, and pressed her crimson lips to Paul's cheek, who leaned into it expectantly. The bohemian beauty pulled herself from the cab window, and joined Jasmine as they started giggling, waving goodbye to the driver. Of whom they heard continual laughter, even as he turned a corner. Jasmine put an arm around Esmeralda's back, and her friend reciprocated, the two strutting in their heels as they sniggered.

"Next time, it's your turn," Esmeralda said leaning into Jasmine.

"I'm totally out of practice, but deal. Did you see the way he looked at you when you said you'd kiss him?" Tears were forming in her eyes and Jasmine wiped at them careful to avoid smudging her eyeliner.

The girls reached the end of the walkway and Esmeralda nodded, "I thought those eyebrows would get stuck on top his head," Esmeralda had tears forming now too, and cleared them. Jasmine sighed coming down from the high and let out a breath.

"Ready?" Esmeralda adjusted her bra and Jasmine gave a nod and knocked on the door.

Abrupt music vibrated onto the front deck as a handsome boy threw back the door. His hair was shaggy and thick and dark like molasses and flowed gracefully over his forehead and ears.

"Hey girls, you made it!" Aladdin kissed Esmeralda on the cheek as she moved past him towards the liquor table. Jasmine went to walk through as well when Aladdin's muscular arm shot out and barred her entrance. "Gotta pay the fee." Aladdin gave a flawless smile tapping a pointer finger to his tanned cheek.

Jasmine stood on the ledge of the doorway pressing her breast a fraction from Aladdin's. He held his breath.

"I wouldn't pay you with a kiss, even if it was the toll to pass through the gates of heaven." Jasmine quipped and Aladdin looked her over hungrily, licking his lips. "Now, let me in."

"Yes ma'am." Aladdin let her pass and watched her long and hard as she made her way through the crowd. He'd never get over how badly he needed her, and knew that someday or another, she'd realize she needed him just as much.

* * *

"Still not interested in him?" Esmeralda hollered over the music handing Jasmine a mixed drink.

Jasmine shook her head watching Aladdin from across the den as she drank from the plastic cup. Her eyes snapped down to her drink in surprise at the perfect blend of fruit and vodka. If she wasn't careful she would consume way too much and find herself in another predicament of dirty dancing and elicit blacked out sex.

"I can't be interested in him. I mean, sure he's sweet and hot."

"Totally hot."

"But . . . I don't know. He's twenty-one and still acts like he's a freshman in high school." Jasmine gestured to his appearance with a free hand, both girls now scrutinizing his every attribute. Aladdin was sporting grey sweat pants and an old tank top with the sides cut out to reveal the swell of his pecks and the firm ribbed lining of his torso. He ran a hand through his hair which was done in futility since it fell straight back into his eyes.

"Besides, I think of him as a brother. We even look alike too."

"Well, maybe you're right about all that. But I'll tell you now that's not how he sees things between you." Esmeralda warned.

Jasmine snapped to attention, "Where did you hear that? I've never lead him on."

Esmeralda shrugged, "Maybe you don't think so, but to a love-struck guy who is enamored with the prettiest girl in our school, he sees all your interactions as a form of flirting." She poured another drink, and Jasmine gulped down the last bit of her own while keeping an eye on Aladdin. "Word of advice, stay away from him tonight if you don't want to give the wrong impression."

"Done." Jasmine affirmed and took a second cup full and headed to find her other friends and make an appearance to Ariel – who was elated she'd shown up and gave her a backbreaking hug.

She had met Aladdin during her freshmen year and his junior year. They had always been acquaintances, and had gone to homecoming together twice. But nothing ever bloomed from that relationship other than being friends. If what Esmeralda said was true, Jasmine most certainly would keep far from Aladdin.

However, what she promised herself in theory she failed to accomplish in practice – and it was due in large part to Jasmine's inability to cut herself off. She had spent the majority of the last hour in Aladdin's lap and made no attempt at removing his hand from her knee. And then her thigh.

"You look beautiful tonight, Jaz," Aladdin whispered sloppily, into her ear as he pulled her to lean entirely against his chest.

Her legs sprawled out over him regardless of the short dress she wore. Esmeralda was around somewhere, Jasmine assumed, and at any point Jasmine was sure she could give the signal and ask for help if things got out of hand. So for now she rested on Aladdin's shoulder, her head feeling too heavy to move.

"Your skin feels so good," Aladdin's calloused fingers were rough against her smooth thighs. It felt like a twig grazing her numbed skin, inching its way higher and higher until she felt a pressure dip into the pudginess of her lips. He poked her gently, and she made a tiny noise, scrunching her face. "Does this feel good to _you_?"

Aladdin's voice was warm against her face with a low-pitched whine. He sounded like a pubescent man-child and it made Jasmine's skin crawl. No, it did _not_ feel good. It felt intrusive as shit, but her tongue was fat in her mouth and didn't have any control over the situation. Such as the story usually went when she drank.

Jasmine heard herself moan but didn't know why. There was a pressure that dipped through her lace panties into her slit, but it didn't feel good. It hurt, and was dry. Jasmine wriggled defeatedly trying to get away, but Aladdin took it as a sign of her being aroused and dug his finger deeper into her, making Jasmine yelp.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!"

Aladdin ripped his digit from Jasmine's entrance with a jolt that made her startle awake and sit up off him. Esmeralda shoved her drink into someone's hands as she stormed forward.

"Get your nasty filthy hands off my best friend," Esmeralda yanked Jasmine to her feet by the arm, the two girls nearly toppling over as they tried to balance. Jasmine smacked her tongue and rubbed at her eyes disoriented.

Aladdin tossed up his hands in defense. "Esme, it's not like that. I thought – I thought she wanted it."

A crowd started to form, Ariel and Eric, the only two sober people at the party, made their way to the front of the circle, just in time to watch Esmeralda scream in outrage.

"At what point did you come to that conclusion? When she was passed out in your arms and couldn't say no?" Esmeralda was turning red, her stance widening as she kept a hold on Jasmine. If need be though, she would be willing to let Jasmine fall so she could kick Aladdin's ass.

"No – God its not like that," Aladdin stammered coming to his feet. Esmeralda took it as a threat, let go of Jasmine and stepped up to Aladdin ad began taking out her hooped earrings. "What?"

"You heard me, let's _go_." Esmeralda said again as she freed the first piece of jewelry.

Everyone began yelling in approval, a few whistling as some female shouted " _kick his ass!"_ and Aladdin backed up with his hands up in surrender.

Eric stepped in between the two, facing Esmeralda, "Alright, everyone, let's just calm down. Esme. _I'll_ deal with Aladdin. You just get Jasmine home alright? Babe, can you call them a cab?"

"Already on it honey," Ariel chimed, her phone, that was decked out in a seashell case, pressed to her ear as she aided Jasmine in walking towards the front waiting area.

Esmeralda didn't back down yet, and looked past the dark haired blue-eyed man to shoot daggers at the ridiculous boy behind him. She stabbed a jeweled finger in Aladdin's direction, "Don't come near my friend again. Got it?"

Aladdin worked his jaw. A hairline of a twitch flashing over his features before he regained composure and simply nodded.

The girls were put in a cab, which Eric paid for, and taken back to Esmerelda's home. The two climbed into the Queen sized bed and fell asleep.

Jasmine woke up halfway through the night to throw up, get water and sprawl out on the couch with a sleeve of crackers. She'd been out of the partying game for so long and couldn't hold her own anymore and before she passed out – with a pile of crumbs on her chest – Jasmine made a note to never drink again.

* * *

He had gotten out of his first class of physical therapy and wanted to take a stroll around the nearby city park to think and work out his weak leg. Hamed had been completely downhearted all summer having needed Jasmine to tend to his every whim – as if he were some king. It made him sick with a guilt that knotted like a hard ball in his stomach. He'd never forgive himself for stealing away her last worry free summer. She deserved to have fun and live vicariously, not worry over him every minute afraid he'd break in other places and kill over.

He knew her extreme worrying was also in part of already having lost one parent. Hamed knew it would break her if she lost another. Jasmine had been barely ten when the tumor grew ravenous on Juliauna's brain; leaving him a widow and Jasmine motherless. She had taken on a woman-of-the-household role only a few weeks after. Burying her grief and filling the void with housework, cooking, and making sure that he was alright. He had tried to be strong for his daughter, and envied her relentless courage – but he knew he'd let himself go. And for the first few years he even had trouble looking at Jasmine. The resemblance between mother and daughter too great to bear.

Hamed grew tired after walking around half of the massive pond, and sat down on an iron bench that had a plaque with the name of the city's founder from the 1900's. Hamed eased down clumsily and adjusted, setting his leg out straight as he leaned forward on the end of his cane. He was still trying to get used to the darn thing, but found it untrustworthy, imagining it breaking under his weight each time he leaned on it. It was better than crutches though, he supposed.

A little girl with her grandfather was tossing bread slices into the water, geese coming forward with graceful movements to pick up the soggy wheat with their beaks, toss their heads back and gobble it down before going in for another piece. The little girl reminded Hamed of Jasmine at that age. Except the memories he had most of his daughter during that time were of her packing their lunches and making breakfast before school.

He could still see it clearly as if it were right in front of him. Jasmine's tiger print lunchbox and his brown paper bag stuffed with the usual ham and cheese sandwiches with chips, and a juice box. No matter how early he tried to get up Jasmine always beat him to the punch. The smell of cinnamon waffles in the toaster wafting through the small kitchen and orange juice and fresh cut dandelions adorning the table.

She was the kindest soul Hamed had ever known in his life. And still to this day, even though she was eighteen and starting college, Hamed had trapped her in his mind as the little girl in the kitchen with chipped fingernail polish, a messy ponytail and pants that were too baggy on her thin body. He preserved it in his memory like a shadow box filled with pieces of all the things that made her special. All the moments he had taken for granted while consumed with grief.

Now all he wanted to do was see her happy, and pay her back for all she had done for them as a family. And the fact that his poor health and clumsiness had stolen away her summer made Hamed feel miserable. He had a heart that was, as the doctor gently put it, a ticking time bomb, and arthritis in his right arm and hand, osteoporosis and clogged arteries. Hamed didn't have the heart to tell Jasmine how much pain he was always in and tried to force a smile every moment he was in her presence. He didn't want Jasmine to keep worrying about him, or to put her life on hold another moment more. She needed to enjoy college, and experience a life where she didn't have to feel responsible for his misery.

The evening was dawning, Hamed's wrist watch reading 4:35pm and he stood to make way for his car. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk for a moment to watch a family of geese paddle off towards the reeds when someone smacked right into him bringing both of them to the unforgiving ground.

The woman let out a gasp as she scrambled to her feet, "Lo Siento, oh no. Please forgive me – I'm so sorry," her Spanish accent was thick and she wore a pink workout jumpsuit. She helped Hamed to his feet, picking up his cane and handing it back with trembling hands. "Please, forgive me. I'm so sorry. I didn't see you."

Hamed didn't mind though and found the dull pain in his leg easing as he recognized the soft gentle face of the woman he'd met over the summer. Lucia. She had auburn curled hair that grayed at the temples and was always pulled back into a low set bun or ponytail. Her eyes were the color of a water chestnut and she spoke with a soft gentle voice. She spastically looked form him, to his leg, to the pond, and to the trail where she had come from, and then back to him before looking to the sky. It was completely adorable to watch but Hamed found the need to interrupt and help reel in her anxiety.

'Lucia, I'm fine. I promise." He beamed with rosy cheeks.

Lucia took him in, finally focusing solely on the man she had tackled to the ground and lit up with an expression that matched his. "Oh my – _Hamed_? It is so good to see you again! I am so sorry. How is your leg?"

He worked it a little looking down at it with a supposed shrug, "Good as it can be. I can walk at least now."

"Well, bless the Lord. That is good to news. I hope I didn't hurt you too terribly."

Hamed smiled gently as they gave each other an abashed type of look. He was out of practice but decided it was worth a shot. The most she could do was reject him cruelly.

"I promise I'm fine, however, I have another issue. I – umm," he licked his mouth unable to meet her sweet doe eyes. "I'm absolutely starving, but I don't want to eat alone."

Lucia laughed moving a stray baby hair from her temple, "I think I can help with that."

"Is that so?"

"Mm-hmm. That is if you're willing to forgive me for bumping into you."

"I think that can be arranged," Hamed held out the crook of his arm and she took it, the two taking on a casual gait as the strolled through the park and down the street to a family owned bistro. Hamed beamed to himself, _I still got it._

That had been four days ago. Hamed had seen Lucia every day after physical therapy since but kept it quiet for the time being. When Jasmine had asked last night to go to a party with Esmeralda he couldn't believe his luck and practically pushed her out the door. Not that he didn't want her home, or that he wanted to hide his new relationship from his daughter. But he wanted Jasmine to enjoy the last bit of summer and in the process, spend more time with Lucia in private. He planned to tell Jasmine soon, but needed to make sure she could handle the news and that he too was ready for opening up that door of his heart again.

It was Saturday morning, Lucia and Hamed drinking tea and eating biscuits, both still glowing from their first night spent together. He hadn't felt so happy in so very long, and for the first time since Juliauna died, Hamed had hope that Jasmine wouldn't have to worry about him any longer and could live her life as she was meant to – free.

He popped a piece of biscuit in Lucia's mouth and they both smiled, rubbing their noses together then giving a little kiss on the lips. But their blissful breakfast had been interrupted when they heard Jasmine's voice coming from inside the house calling out for Hamed. The couple turned around to face the sliding glass door, as Jasmine opened it and froze. She let the bag of food from NaNa's café fall to her side as she gave a look of utter betrayal.

"How could you not tell me?" Jasmine whispered hoarsely crossing her arms as they spoke privately in the kitchen.

Hamed tried his best to reassure her that nothing changed, and that he would always need his daughter. "Dearest, it's not that I didn't want to. It's still new. I just wanted to make sure the timing was right."

"Is that why you wanted me out of the house last night. So, you could fornicate with your ex caretaker?" Jasmine's shouting came out in a pitchy strained sound. Hamed didn't respond past contorting his face in a guilty _yes_. "Gross! Dad . . . Oh, my God."

Hamed crossed his thick arms over his rounded belly giving a lopsided half frown half smile. This was exactly why he wanted to keep it under the rug for the time being. "I just didn't want to throw this on you. You've taken care of me and our home for so long sweetie. Now it's time for you to focus solely on yourself. I didn't want you to worry – And I'm not trying to replace your mother."

Jasmine's breath caught as if hit in the gut, and she shielded her stomach with one hand and played with her necklace with the other.

"But . . . If it makes you uncomfortable I'll tell her to go. You still live here and I want you to feel at ease, always."

Jasmine sighed rubbing at her temple. She looked unwell with dark circles under her eyes. Hamed thought about questioning what she did at those parties but in honesty didn't think he could handle knowing. She was safe each time and happy. That's what mattered.

"No dad. I'm not gonna ask you to do that. She's nice. Its fine I guess, just please, don't have . . . you know what when I'm here." Her mouth turned down in the corners and a vein tightened in her neck as she struggled to get the phrase out.

Hamed laughed and shook his head, "Of course not dearest."

Jasmine exhaled with a shrug and gave him a cheeky kiss, "I'm gonna get some sleep. Need anything?"

He looked out the window where Lucia sat in her sunhat, drinking tea and he smiled. "Not thanks, dearest. I have all I need right now."

Jasmine gave a pained look and pulled inwards, giving a brief smile that didn't reach her eyes and headed up for her room.

He'd been more than grateful for all his daughter did and understood she might feel replaced by another female presence. But that would never be the case. She needed her life back especially with starting college and he didn't want to be anyone's burden. Lucia was phenomenal and lovely in every way. It would be good for everyone to have her around – hopefully for the long haul.

* * *

Jasmine avoided her father the rest of the weekend even skipping meals to avoid the awkward interactions between him and his new girlfriend. She understood where her father was coming from, and that he had been lonely for long enough. But that didn't mean she was ready for a commitment to a new mother figure.

Lucia was charming and lovely just as she had been when they'd hired her to help Hamed. Jasmine didn't have any real complaints about her and knew it shouldn't matter that she stayed all through Saturday and then came over after work on Sunday. Or that her father so blatantly snuggled with Lucia on the couch in _front_ of Jasmine. Albeit, the one thing Jasmine couldn't get over was how nosy Lucia was. She pried way too much, asking Jasmine personal questions about her friends, her love life, or lack thereof, and what her plans were for the future. It wouldn't be so bothersome if Lucia didn't speak in a tone that suggested she were taking on the role of parenthood, and trying to give advice on how Jasmine should live her life.

 _Too late,_ Jasmine thought. She was already an adult, being eighteen, and hadn't had a mother in over eight years. Jasmine was the woman of the house and wasn't in the market for being taken under someone's wing.

Therefore, by Sunday night Jasmine was on edge and dying for an excuse to leave the house. Esmeralda's parents were back home and had taken her to see a play: _The Hunchback of Notre Dame._ Something Esmeralda wasn't too keen on but agreed to appease her family.

"Just hang out with Ariel. Or go to a bookstore and get coffee." She said at intermission when Jasmine had called for the twelfth time.

Jasmine rocked her head side to side considering the options. "I don't know. I might go to Aladdin's. He texted me."

"Fuck. No. Jasmine. No. I – crap, they're flashing the lights. I have to go. But do not, under any circumstances, go there. Because if he touches you again I'll be forced to kill him. Kay?"

Jasmine rolled her eyes, "luv ya." She hung up and got ready to head out for some bookstore coffee when she caught sight of Hamed and Lucia kissing soft little pecks on the mouth in the kitchen.

Nope. She'd need something stronger than coffee to erase that image. Jasmine pulled up her messages and responded to Aladdin's earlier text. " _Be there soon. Have booze_."

"Dad I'm going out. Can I take the car?"

She heard him gasp and laugh trying to shush Lucia as if their indiscretions were some sort of morbid secret.

"On a school night? Umm . . ." Lucia whispered something to Hamed that Jasmine couldn't hear, thankfully, and Hamed chucked, "Okay sweetie. Be back by twelve."

Jasmine raced past the kitchen, avoiding looking at them a second time, grabbed her bag and the keys and practically sprinted towards the car in the driveway. She found it easier than she'd originally thought to get back to her former way of life – sad as it was. The fact was that booze were the only thing she could rely on to remain constant. It was the one part of her life that she could control ever since she discovered its medicinal qualities at fifteen. Jasmine was reminded that the only freedom she'd ever get would be found in the bottle of a glass – where she could drown her problems and find escape.


	2. Chapter Two

Morning chemistry filled up with eager students at ten til eight, while a tall slender man stood at the front, jotting down his name on a whiteboard. The cap of the visa vis clicked as Professor Mākir placed it meticulously on the whiteboard shelf. He took up his cane and turned to give an easy nod to each of the students as a silent welcome. The only form of niceties he was willing to extend.

The lecture hall could fit roughly a hundred students, but Professor Mākir arranged the tables so it only fit eighty. (Even a man of his magnitude had limits as to how many juvenile youths he could tolerate in one sitting.)

The layout of seating was encumbered by three rows of stairs: one on either side of the two columns and one straight down the middle. Each column contained eight rows, with tables large enough to seat five comfortably.

And although it seemed there were plenty of seats, and several ways to get to them, most found it a difficult task; fretting over which permanent seat to choose as if they were closing into a thirty-year mortgage on a home.

Mākir watched them scurvy in one by one, trickling in by fewer numbers after eight. Thin hands with strong knuckles clasped in front to rest easily atop a golden cane. The professor came around to the front of his desk and took position in the center of the class; giving him a perfect view of every angle of the stadium sized room – even way up in the back where freshmen took residence specifically to slack off and text. (They'd learn soon enough that nothing slipped past Professor Mākir and that there was a consequence for any fool that dare waste his time.)

As expected, everyone tried to avoid the front row. Ten students would have to sit in front. And so far, only two of the chairs were filled. Jafar scoffed at the cowardliness of the freshmen – along with the few returning sophomores. The roster declared he had a full class this year, and seats in back were almost non-existent. A fact that didn't register with the stray students who still searched for a free space.

"No one wants to endure the front row, I see. How very, _predictable_ ," he enunciated cocking a brow as he wore his favorite snarl.

A few panting students rushed in just in time to catch the remark and hurried to fill up the spaces, just happy to not have gotten locked out of class for being late. The others who searched dejectedly in back finally gave up and filled the last four. All seats were occupied, aside from one down in front.

"That's better," he chided, keeping a stance of rigid straight-backed posture.

The rustling of bookbags, textbooks and several laptops being set down made a cluttering descant of noise. All eyes were alert as their ears tuned in to await instructions. A far better turn out than Professor Mākir was used to and he hoped for a moment that this class of teens would be less treacherous than the last.

"Clearly my name is listed on the board as well as on your class schedule. However, since we live in a world where incompetence reigns supreme, I am entitled to specify a _third_ time, who I am." With a deep breath Jafar stepped forward with a confident gait. His cane pounding dully into the carpeted floor.

"I am Professor Jafar Mākir. You may call me by either first or last name, but always as _professor_. I _earned_ my Doctorates from Cambridge and along with it my title. Never refer to me as teacher, mister, or the infamous, _'What is up Jay Dawg'_."

The class sniggered simultaneously at how odd the slang sounded from their professor.

Jafar gave a tight-lipped grimace to indicate that it _wasn't_ funny but more so _tragic_ that the youth of today spoke in such a decrepitating manner. "Believe me, it's happened more times than I care to relive."

Moving on, Jafar set aside his cane and took up a thick pile of three paged packets. He came to the left column and counted up each row quickly, then gave forty packets to the first person so they could take one and pass it down and back. Then he stepped to the right column to repeat the process; this time only counting thirty-nine, leaving one extra.

"Now. The board of education requires I go over each bulletin point with you in this packet, while allotting time for questions." He paused, putting the extra copy in a briefcase before turning again to face them, "But that is a waste of your time, and more importantly, _mine_."

The class chuckled again and a couple of girls in the second row made a comment on how sexy the professor was. Jafar caught the gist of what was said, but ignored it simply. It wasn't the first time some young college girl had a crush on him; no matter how scathing his demeanor. He presumed it to be the facial hair that spurred their advances.

"I will, however, tell you three rules that are non-negotiable and without quarters." Jafar leaned to sit against the desktop lacing spindly fingers together in his lap a she analyzed each young person. A short boy, with caveman like features, and a shirt with half naked women on it, scratched his head, and Jafar looked disgusted by the dumfounded expression. Then he remembered the simple-minded boy from last year, "Quarters means _mercy_ , LeFou."

Everyone looked to the sophomore, making snide whispering remarks although LeFou didn't seem to notice as he nodded with mouth ajar.

 _Christ, how I hate Introductory Chem._ Jafar couldn't wait until this afternoon where he would be surrounded by more intelligible species. But he remained calculated and continued with the list of expectations.

"First and foremost, arrive to my class _on time_. A few of you came in five after and, though I was generous today, such luxuries will not be extended next time. Five tardies in a semester will result in a grade letter drop."

Murmurs of concerned whispers came and Jafar bit his cheek and continued matter-of-factly. "Secondly, there are _no_ makeup assignments, tests, or labs. Be here every day, on time, and ready to work. This class, though it is merely introduction, is a college level course. So be prepared for college level work and to be treated as responsible, capable, adults." He looked over the first few that had already grated his nerves, and spoke accordingly, "I will tell you now, most of you won't make it past the first quarter."

Nervous looks flooded the room, and Jafar was pleased with their fear. They _should_ be afraid of failing and becoming worthless bums like the greater portion of society.

"Finally, there is _zero_ tolerance for cell phones. I understand you all have lives, no matter how pitiful, outside this room, and life is unpredictable. **_If_** you are expecting an emergency phone call, let me know at the beginning of class. But the ninety-nine percent of you that will not experience such a dilemma will give me undivided attention. We only have two hours, which isn't a lot to ask; but those who dare to waste my time, will repay me tenfold; in the form of grade deduction and ultimately confiscation of the device."

Faces paled, and Jafar fought to keep from smiling at their trepidation, "If you have a cell phone . . . turn it off _now_."

Countless beeping, buzzing, unzipping and zipping inundated throughout the room. When at last it fell silent, Jafar strolled back to the massive board and slid the top one to the right until it disappeared in a slot behind the wall; revealing another board beneath it. On it were examples of chemical reaction equations, and Jafar picked up a black marker and at last began the lesson. His booming voice penetrating the atmosphere.

"Write a balanced equation for the combustion of propane C3H8 in oxygen O2. The products are carbon dioxide CO2 and water H2O. To start, we will begin by writing the _unbalanced_ equation."

* * *

Jasmine stirred under rays of beaming sunlight and turned into the pillow for escape, however regretted the decision instantly. The cushion smelled like aged sweat and Jasmine pulled away with a crinkled nose. She rubbed the sleep from her dry eyes to focus on the foreign room. Last night was a blur. A blacked-out-dancing-around-the-fire-pit-with-booze blur.

The last she could remember was sitting on Aladdin's lap and being told she needed to go to bed. _Which_ bed she couldn't remember.

A deep guttural snoring resounded directly behind Jasmine's ear as if in response to her mottled memory. Jasmine knew who would be lying there. Whose arm was draped around her midsection. And whose warm half naked body was pressed against her back. She knew. But didn't want to turn over and see Aladdin for herself _._

He grumbled and smacked his dry tongue, sending a wave of bad breath to climb around front and assault Jasmine's nostrils.

She gagged already having a sensitive stomach from over indulgence and slowly slid out from under his grip and crawled out of bed, still refusing to look at Aladdin. _If you don't acknowledge him then last night doesn't count._ She told herself.

Jasmine scrambled to pick up her crumpled clothing: a chore that resulted in the difficulty of ignoring the fact that she and Aladdin more than likely had blacked out sex.

She gathered her denim jeans printed tee and socks, thankful that she still had on her undergarments. _That was a good sign_ – but didn't ensure immunity. (They still could've slept together by scooting aside the necessary part of her panties.)

Jasmine shuddered and pranced on the tips of her toes across the creaky floor and down the hall to the nearest bathroom – what was considered a walk of shame. She had taken a similar one, one other time, while in high school.

Jasmine had blacked out at a Prom after party. When she'd woken the next day, Gaston had told her they screwed in a closet. Although she couldn't remember it happening she figured it was true and accepted her fate, leaving his parents' house the next morning with her heels in her hands and underwear missing.

Now was just another one of those pathetic moments in which she should cry and feel sorry for herself. But she couldn't and refused to. It was _just_ sex. Besides, it must not be very good if she couldn't remember it any, so it mattered not. Although she preferred to keep this to herself and especially away from Esmeralda's knowledge.

Jasmine dressed, brushed her teeth with a finger, and fashioned her tangled hair into a messy braid. Her clothes were wrinkled and smelled a little off, but she didn't need to impress anyone. After approving herself in the mirror Jasmine tiptoed down the staircase and made her way towards the kitchen. The morning's bright light sent splintering shards through her head and Jasmine wielded her eyes tight, walking blindly around the island and towards the coffee pot.

"Make it for two?" Charming called out causing Jasmine to jerk and bang an elbow against the counter. She'd forgotten that Aladdin had a roommate and now feared there had been a witness to her whorishness.

"Whoa, jumpy much Jaz? Didn't mean to scare you."

She winced unable to smile with the throbbing of her funny bone, saying, "Sorry. Coffee coming right up," then sucked up the pain and made coffee for two, adding another scoop to the filter. She added another piece of bread to the toaster as well, too.

"That was some night huh? Hope I didn't keep you up?" She started carefully, unsure if she should pry to find out how much he knew about last night.

"Nah, I was out. How ya feelin' this morning?"

She felt miserably tired, emotional, and slightly used and dirty, now having been with two men that she couldn't remember sharing a bed with. But instead, " _Hungover_ ," was the answer given. Simple. Without seeming desperate for clarity.

"I hear ya man, you and that girl from my work started doing body shots off each other by the time I was already past my limit."

"Aurora?"

"Yeah, that one. Must be testosterone that kept you girls standing." He chuckled tossing back a protein shake.

Jasmine leaned over the counter pitying him, "Estrogen, Charming. Women have _estrogen_. Not testosterone . . . Speaking of which, I think I have chemistry this morning. Can I use your computer to check my schedule?"

He nodded stepping aside to get the toasted bread and butter both pieces while Jasmine logged into her school account. There was a printer nearby and Jasmine decided to have a hardcopy of it also, and logged back out once it printed.

Charming smacked his gums chewing loudly as he peered over her shoulder. Jasmine took the slice he offered and nibbled it rereading the schedule.

* _CHE 101 Introduction to Chemistry I with Lab: (8am – 10:00 am; Lab 10:15 am – 11:00 am)_

 _Instructor: Professor Jafar Mākir_

*DAN 122 Belly Dance Intro: (11:15pm – 12:00pm)

 _Instructor: Cynthia Moore_

 _*HUM 115 World Mythology: (12:15pm – 1:45pm)_

 _Instructor: Professor Aidoneus Inferno_

 _*MAT 121 Introduction to Algebra (2:00 pm – 3:15 pm)_

 _Instructor: John Smith_

"Oh okay, phew. It _is_ ten am: lecture in Chemistry 101." Jasmine squinted, the ink slightly smudged, "But that doesn't make sense. Lab starts fifteen minutes later?"

Charming bent over looking at the sheet with her as if deciphering the da Vinci code.

"Nah, Jaz… you're reading it wrong. It _ends_ at ten, _starts_ at eight."

Jasmine jumped up busting Charming's chin with her boney shoulder. He howled, but she didn't pay attention to it, and ran to the kitchen's oven clock. _Eight forty-five_.

"God damnit!" Jasmine screeched, crinkling the paper as she shoved it into her jean pocket, and raced for the front. The slice of bread was placed between her teeth as she found her purse, jacket, and father's car keys.

"Want me to tell Aladdin bye for you?" Charming hollered holding his bruised jaw.

Jasmine didn't respond and slammed the front door, jumped in the car and raced towards the university.

* * *

Around nine o'clock each day Professor Mākir, as announced, would write a quote or discussion topic concerning chemistry. From there the student body was to explore the concepts and ideologies of the minds that laid the foundation of chemistry and to explore their own ideas of the field.

Today's quote read, _Chemistry, unlike other sciences, sprang originally from delusions and superstitions, and was at its commencement exactly on a par with magic and astrology._

Jafar's hands slid into front pockets while broadening his shoulders, "First, and without looking on the _blasted_ internet, who can tell me the author of this quote?"

No one spoke at first, until a young woman raised her hand, "Thomas Thomson?"

Jafar gave an unimpressed stare as the only form of assurance that she had been correct. "And who can tell me when Chemistry was first recognized as a science?"

No one raised their hand while avoiding eye contact. Fearful that if they met Jafar's dark eyes they would be called upon. One of the students were bolder than all the rest, having taken his elusiveness to a new level as his forehead rested on top the table. Jafar took up his cane from where it leaned on the desk and walked with it articulately. A free hand going behind his back as he spoke with a honeyed growl.

"Not one person is willing to try? Not even to take a guess?"

Still they remained deathly silent, watching him as he stepped up the middle row ominously. He gave a sigh, clutching the head of the rod, " _Alchemy_ was the first form of chemistry. The study of the composition of waters, movement, and growth."

When Jafar came to the fifth row up he turned powerfully and whacked the back of the sleeping student's head. The red haired male jerked, shrieking out at the painful swelling of his skull as he rubbed the sore spot.

Jafar thought the boy meant to cry and watched him a moment longer – _Please do it, that humiliation would be a far better punishment._

When the point had been made clear, Jafar went back to the lecture as if nothing had happened. No one spoke a word about the ordeal, all terrified to even breathe too loudly – lest it be mistaken as snoring and they get beaten over the head as well.

"It was the practice of embodying and disembodying, drawing spirits from bodies and bonding the spirits within them. How then did Chemistry become the practice as we know it today, or rather, why did our species find it necessary to experiment in the first place?"

Some woman with auburn hair raised a hand, "Professor Mākir, why are we _discussing_ chemistry. It's not like this is theology, it's just science. You know, math, numbers, reactions. Right?"

Oh, the youth of today, Jafar rubbed the gruff line of his jawline fighting to keep from smacking another student across the head. This time for stupidity.

"Science, Misses . . ."

"Megaera, but you can call me Meg. _Miss_ Meg. No husband." She looked him over sultrily, consciously pushing out her chest. " _Or_ boyfriend."

Jafar rose a brow at the forwardness, but remained masked even when she winked at him.

"Miss, Megaera _._ Science is full of debates, and discussions," Professor Mākir looked her over deciding she was attractive, but not worth it, and stepped further up towards the back seats, keeping his voice large as he spoke to all. "Theories are tested, hypotheses constantly changing and adapting with new presentations of evidence."

He stepped further up the middle aisle, stopping by the top row, "Chemistry is for the mathematicians, theologians and spiritual alike. In which all can find common ground in reason and experimentation of the world around us. So yes. We must _discuss_ Chemistry too."

All that could be heard was the typing of laptop keys – and rare old schoolers using pencil and paper – when the classroom door swung open violently then slammed like a clap of thunder behind a young woman. From where Jafar stood he could tell she was out of breath and disheveled. She adjusted her shoulder bag while looking over a wrinkled paper.

Jafar darkened, mouth mimicking repulsion while his palm twitched, tightening around the cane's neck. It was nine fifteen: over an hour past the allotted start time. Everyone on his roster had already been accounted for and signed in. The little witch was obviously in the wrong place which meant she was wasting his time. He would kill for lesser grievances.

"I believe you have the _wrong_ room." Jafar bemoaned from the depths of his gut purposely speaking in such a harsh way to rattle the girl.

The young woman stepped in further looking up confused. "I'm here for chemistry?" She laughed but it sounded nervous, "The teacher's name is Jafar? Jafar Mukeer?"

 _Teacher? Mukeer? What an insolent twat!_ Jafar glowered, wanting to bludgeon her with his rod for interrupting the lecture and disrespecting him and his classroom. Jafar treaded down the aisle, eyes never leaving the dark-haired woman, even as he spoke to the class.

"Turn to page two-hundred-forty and read until two-hundred-fifty."

Pages ruffled instantly, everyone's attention broken from the latecomer and focused on their orders.

Jafar remained cool, keeping impenetrable walls up to intimidate yet another weak-minded child. Her clothes were wrinkled and hair messy. Clearly, she was a lazy bum – and laziness was grotesque. He'd been ready to humiliate her, but the second his feet stepped in front of her tiny ones, the details of her face came into view, and it took his breath away.

An absolutely stunning specimen. Her mouth was full and pouty while her eyes were deep set, and perfectly shaped like almonds, coated with thick long lashes. Smooth cinnamon skin was accented with pink cheekbones and her slender neck was creamy and flawless. For the first time in his life, Jafar found he couldn't speak or think clearly.

* * *

Jasmine bit her lip, feeling extremely intimidated by the dark light emanating from the older man. He towered her like a skyscraper and peeled away at her confidence like a hawk flaying its prey. When he finally spoke, it cut along Jasmine's ears like jagged shards of bitterness.

"What is your name, _child_?"

 _Excuse me!? I am an eighteen-year-old_ _ **woman**_ _!_ Though her pride wanted to be in control her voice betrayed her, coming out in a warbled stutter. "Ja –Jasmine?" _Why did you say it like it was a question!?_ Jasmine swallowed, trying again to sound confident, "Jasmine Sahir."

As he came closer Jasmine stepped back instinctually, allowing him to pass and rest a cane aside the desk. He was extremely tall, in his late thirties she supposed, and clearly a no-nonsense type of guy. He wore a clean cut three-piece suit. All black, with a red dress shirt, and red pocket handkerchief.

Rather formal for a teacher.

"You are in the _wrong_ class, Miss Sahir. But thank you for the demonstration of how _not_ to enter a classroom in progress." It was matter of fact, and though his face was away from her, it was obvious he wore a smug grin.

 _Give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe this_ _ **is**_ _the wrong classroom._ She breathed calming her agitated nerves. The sides of her skull were throbbing already; getting angry wouldn't help any.

"This isn't chemistry room 329?"

Jafar's back rose and fell with deep breaths. He stepped to take his seat at the desk and looked once more at the roster, hating that her incompetence was making him question himself.

Jasmine followed prematurely, coming to the front of the polished desk to lean over and look at whatever he was reading. Golden brown eyes sliced through her as he watched her from the top of his lids. The single look held a million waves of heat, all radiating at Jasmine and making her flush as her lower belly clenched. He looked back down reading over his paper and licked the tip of a long finger to wet it and better grab at another sheaf. His pink tongue was thin and moist and Jasmine felt a tightening in her chest when watching it dart out. Her imagination leading to horribly inappropriate images.

Jasmine stepped back retracting her hands from the desk and around her stomach. She had just woken up half naked next to Aladdin and now was lusting after some old guy. What the hell was wrong with her?

The man in black bore his teeth, "You are _not_ on my roster, Miss Sahir. Therefore. You have. The **_wrong_**. Class."

The energy she'd felt a moment ago surged over her again and she pressed her legs tightly together to block the unorthodox desire. She was just a sucker for dysfunction, she griped inwardly.

 _But I'm not a stupid child. But go ahead and treat me like one. I can play that game too._

The heels of her hands dug into the mahogany once more, only this time Jasmine added as much sass as possible into the action. She caught how his pressed mouth twitched as his hands folded powerfully in front of his broad chest. Clearly he hates his space encased.

Jasmine pulled an innocent face and talked slow and mockingly. "When did you print off your roster, Mister Jafar?"

 _Bitch_ , Jafar thought nearly saying it aloud. He should correct her and send her packing, yet somehow this was getting away from him, "Last Monday," he said dryly.

Jasmine smiled sarcastically, continuing in a sticky sweet voice, "I didn't enroll until _Friday_ , which means your roster is not ip to date. Does that make sense to you, now?"

Oh, fuck that look was dark, and made her belly somersault and then drop down between her legs. Still, Jasmine went on while surprisingly keeping the quavering from her deliverance.

"I am sorry for any inconvenience Mister Makir, but I'm sure you'll find a way to get the stick out and see this as a simple misunderstanding."

Another fake smile passed from Jasmine's perfectly shaped mouth. The instructor flexed his jaw and breathed in slow meticulously strained breaths. She should be afraid. Any sane person would be when face to face with a ravenous lion. But somehow Jasmine was entranced by his mysterious darkness and wanted to know just how bad his bite was.

Jafar showed his teeth again, giving what looked like a wolf's smile as his nostrils flared, "Take. A seat. Miss Sahir."

With a quirk of her brows she looked him over in triumph, and went up the first aisle nearest the right wall, searching for a seat in back.

The classroom had remained undeterred by the brief student-instructor power struggle and other than the occasional flip of a page the room was hushed as students continued reading through the chapter. No one noticing Jasmine's naïve hopefulness at finding a seat in the back.

Except for Professor Makir who always noticed everything. Especially, _her_.

* * *

Jafar knew he should be reading yet could not focus on the lecture notes. His mind reeling, instead, with possibilities of horrid punishments for that stupid little woman.

The ring on his pointer finger dug into his lips, pressing deep against his mouth as he fumed like simmering coal while watching the Sahir girl dauntingly look for a seat. Had she been there, _on time_ , the witch could have grabbed any seat her incipient heart desired. But there was one seat left, and one only, and unfortunately for them both, it would be hers until the end of the semester.

"Excuse me. Pardon me – shit, I'm sorry," Jasmine mumbled earning several scowls and protests from her classmates.

Jafar inhaled deeply closing his eyes as to regain a shred of composure. Clearly, she was naive and high on herself, believing the world revolved around what she wanted. Did Miss Sahir truly think someone would hand over a seat to her because of her looks? Someone needed to put her in her place. Immediately.

* * *

Her book bag got stuck for a moment on the back of a chair. The bag put up a fight but Jasmine won as she yanked it free and smacked two others in the back of the head in the process. Some contents flung out and into the middle row of stairs. Jasmine cursed, tripping once on her way over and scrambled to pick up her phone, tampons, and lip balm. She was shaky and felt gooseflesh rise over her neck where the entire class bore into her with judgmental glares. Jasmine stood, deciding to look for something in a lower row when she tripped over her own feet and fell down two steps landing on her bottom.

The class choked back laughs, some turning away as their faces turned red from holding it in. Jasmine didn't even want to see what the instructor's reaction would be to her clumsiness. _Fucking great. Deliver a wonderful speech of sass and then trip over your own feet!_

She dusted herself off, then yelped with a curse, spinning around and nearly falling down the stairs again, when a violent whipping sound split through the air and jolted everyone to the core. Her eyes landed upon her newfound enemy as he stood at the front of a table, his rod smack dead center of the only available spot left in the room. Jasmine's eyes rolled in her head as she clutched her bag to her chest wishing she could fade away into thin air.

Mister Mākir shot a murderous look meant solely for Jasmine, never breaking contact even to blink. Of course, the last empty seat. All it took for her to find it was clumsiness, humiliation, and Mister Mākir calling attention to her lack of perception. Jasmine sewed her mouth shut, keeping her head held high as she pretended to maintain even a shred of confidence, and came down to the front to slide into the second seat of the bottom right hand row.

She scooted in her chair relieved it was finally over and praying to God that the class would end soon. But Jasmine quickly gave up the hope of being safe, feeling a heavy force in front of her as she swallowed tightly. Her eyes skimmed upwards with caution landing first upon the gilded cane still on her table and then up the length of the rod to a ringed finger, over crisp lines of his suit jacket, and lastly to meet black shadowed eyes. She wanted to look away and hide under the table, any trace of lust vanquished as her palms turned clammy. Mister Mākir moved suddenly and Jasmine flinched thinking he might strike her. He scoffed sardonically and simply brought the cane back to the ground at his side, shaking his head at her as if she were pathetic.

Jasmine chided herself hating that she looked so weak, and slunk in her seat refusing to look at him a moment longer. There were only thirty minutes left of lecture. If she played it cool, she wouldn't fuck up anymore for the remainder of the time. Then again, that might be a bit of a stretch for someone as spastic as herself.

* * *

The lecture finally drew to a close at ten am.

"The assignments for this week are listed in your packets, and further details will be emailed out to you. If you have any questions, or concerns, my cell number is on the board behind me. Do not call me for personal issues, because I do _not_ care. Only serious questions and concerns are permitted –."

Whispering from the front row caught him off guard, and Jafar paused losing his train of thought. "– Also, the first three chapters must be read by Friday, come prepared with your notes and questions. There will be a test over this material at the end of the week so –," he was interrupted again, and looked at Jasmine and one of the returning sophomores who sat next to her.

Of course, it was that wench again, now leaning over, corrupting the idiot next to her as she whispered, giggling. He'd had enough of her shit.

" ** _Miss Sahir_**!"

The young woman jerked, hair flipping over her shoulder as she spun around to face forward. Jafar lumbered toward her, hands clasped behind his back.

"You have now interrupted my class _twice_. Would you care to explain to seventy-nine other students why your time is more valuable than theirs?"

All eyes looked to Jasmine, even the ones from way in the back burned into her skull, making her feel outnumbered. Jasmine hated feeling out of control and would not be cornered or made out to be some timid child. The instructor clearly had it out for her.

"I was asking for something to write on so I could take notes. Do you have a problem with that?"

The boy, Phillip, quickly shoved a sheet of loose leaf paper and a pencil in front of Jasmine, then put his head down copying down the board. Jafar gave him a pitiful look of disdain before coming back to the true delinquent.

"You enroll in my class _late_. Burst into my class, _late_. And come unprepared, taking away the focus and time of _my_ pupils. So yes, Miss Sahir, I find your immaturity and disregard for others quit distressing."

Jasmine craned her neck to scowl up at him, a luscious bottom lip sticking out in a pout; and for a glimmer of a second, Jafar envisioned taking it between his teeth.

"Therefore, I must ask you to leave and come back when and _if_ you find the intellectual capabilities needed in order to be a productive member of our class."

No one spoke, or if they did it hadn't reached Jasmine's ears. The silence was painful. He had no right to make her feel this way over a pencil and scrap of paper. She leaned back defiantly crossing her arms as he tilted her head.

" **No**." _Done. I'm not moving from this seat._

Jafar's smirk fell and the threat he emanated made Jasmine despise him – not just for his boorish attitude, but because he kept stoking a warmth in her. Maybe she was still drunk – which would explain plenty.

"You can't make me leave, unless you throw me over your shoulder, kicking and screaming. And if you do _that,_ I'll file a harassment charge against you for aggravated assault. Is that what you want?"

His strong chin lifted, and she saw him work his jaw. Though the rest of Mister Mākir remained calculated his knuckles turned white on his cane and Jasmine felt a flutter of triumph, knowing she was getting to him just as much as he was to her. (He merely hid it better than she could.)

Jasmine waited, expecting a tiff to unravel, like in high school when the class could be postponed due to teacher-student argument. To her surprise though, and without further discussion, Makir turned away and finished out the last few minutes without a hint of stress or aggravation in his tone.

Damn. She wished she could do that. Unfortunately for her, she wore her heart on her sleeve.

"As a reminder lab is every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 10:15 down the hall. As with this class, and in the _adult_ world," Jafar took a breath to look directly at Jasmine," Be. On. Time."

Her eyes rolled drastically as she slunk further into the chair, her buttocks slipping of the chair as she held herself up with the heels of her feet. With that class concluded and everyone packed up. Jasmine jumped up in relief trying to get through the crowd and bolt out the door.

"Not you, Sahir." Jafar said coldly, freezing her inches from freedom.

Some girl with auburn curls shoved past her, giving a dirty look, before leaving.

 _Jesus, were all of her classes going to be this intense?_

Jasmine's head rolled when she grunted, trudging childlike towards the front of the desk as she crossed her arms and cocked her hips in attitude. He could lecture her all he wanted, but he had met his match; backing down was not within her. No matter how old he was or what degree he had, she refused to accept that he was better.

* * *

At first Jafar didn't acknowledge the shrew, organizing papers in a leather briefcase methodically, before buckling it. Then he stepped around to the front sliding in between Jasmine and the edge of the desk. She didn't back up this time, and he took note of how close they were - with the slightest gesture he would be able to touch her warm flawless skin.

"I only have a short break until lab, so if you'd hurry up, that would be _fantastic_."

The smart-ass remarks pulled his thoughts back to normalcy. He sat on the ridge of his desk, and crossed his arms. He noticed the way she was looking at him. Her body language said selfish brat, but her eyes were taking him in. Soaking up the inches of his strong chest and memorizing the pattern of countless lines etched into his long fingers. And as he watched her noticing him, it made Jafar lose his thoughts once more.

Jasmine took in his facial features, looking first at the small gold earring in his left ear, and the way his long hair met at the base of his neck; clean and shellacked with a few random strands that hung from his temples and kissed his high cheekbones. When he moved, she could smell him, the dulcet cologne that clung to his neck and cufflinks; and it again stirred an unfamiliar deep longing to touch him.

"Do you find yourself amusing, Miss Sahir?"

The large room was suddenly suffocating, walls closing in on the two and she wanted to run away and never look back. Jasmine shrugged, looking away while rubbing the back of her arms as if there were a chill in the room.

"Allow me to clue you in, seeing no one else has been kind enough to do you the courtesy. You, are _not_ , funny. And you are _not_ charming in the least."

 _Thanks fuck head. I'm sure your eulogy will state that you were crass, shallow minded, and heartless._

"This is a _University_ , Miss Sahir, and a college level course meant for _adults_ who are serious about their futures."

Jasmine snapped to attention angry that no one saw her as an adult, "I _am_ serious. I had a rough first day, that doesn't give you the right to judge my character or my ability!" Damn her voice for becoming brittle.

"That's not what you've shown, Miss Sahir," Jafar rumbled low, and she looked away biting her lip in aggravation.

No matter how hard he tried to focus on the issue at hand, Jafar kept falling under her spell. Studying the way silk raven hair fell down her back in a massively spun braid. The rise and fall of her pert chest and the slender curves of her hourglass figure. Even while dressed in a simple tee and denim jeans, this Jasmine girl was more beautiful than Aphrodite and shook lose the foundation of Jafar's sound mind. He wanted her for himself. Only for himself. To claim every inch of her skin with his tongue and fill every hole in her body with – _what the fuck are you doing?_

Jafar bit the inside of his cheek chastising himself for the disturbing thoughts and erased them forcefully. Banishing them to the outskirts of his mind.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen," She whispered.

Fuck of course she was fresh out of high school. He was a blasted pervert and going to hell for looking at a child in such a degenerative manner. Jafar stiffened shoving down any trace of sinister desires, replacing it with degrading snide remarks instead.

"I suggest you drop my course and come back when you're _mature_ enough to handle it." He looked her up and down as if she were a miserable rodent, "Besides, your money will be better used on things you _can_ comprehend. Maybe makeup or diet pills; things that are more your speed."

Her mouth hung open, and he smirked, satisfied with her response. He went to the door holding it open for her, expectantly, so that he could lock up. Jasmine's bottom lip quivered as she fought to understand what the hell just happened. But there was no clear explanation for how to respond or where exactly she felt hurt, and she adjusted her tote and marched out the exit, nearly ramming her shoulder into the instructor as she passed in a huff. Professor Mākir didn't let that slide however and added one last note.

"I don't want to see you in my class again. Including today's lab. Is that understood, Miss Sahir?"

Jasmine didn't look back, but held her head high, stomping away until she left the building through glass doors. It wasn't until she was assuredly out of earshot that the tears flooded freely. Jasmine giving in to the burdens of the last few days as she wept underneath the shade of an oak tree.

* * *

 **Mākir in Arabic means "Cunning," "Sly," and "Calculating."**


	3. Chapter Three

**I appreciate the reviews and the new favorites and followers! YAY! Because this is my second story – Anomaly taking precedence – it will be produced at a slower rate, but I will try and tend to this more often.**

 **P.S. I just updated the first chapter, and suggest everyone to read it. Its much better and a cleared depiction of some past events and the relationships of the characters. (3/11/2017)**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

The rest of Monday droned on under the credence of helpless anxiety. Jasmine skipped lab just as she'd been ordered to do, and after she had a good cry, Jasmine got coffee and a scone and vented to Esmeralda right before they met up in belly dance class. Although that conversation hadn't gone how Jasmine had hoped.

Esmerelda said, _"He is a phenomenal chemist though Jas. I've read articles on Professor Jafar Mākir before. He's quite well renowned and extremely intelligent. I don't know . . . Maybe just let it roll off your back, and try again tomorrow?"_

Jasmine had no idea how to respond to that and as the instructor took over dance class, Jasmine was forced to silently chew on the idea that Mr. Mākir was credible in his deliverance of discipline. Which only aggravated Jasmine further; the scenario setting itself up as a tape, rewinding and preparing to play on repeat the rest of the day.

Dance class commenced, Jasmine grabbed lunch from the commons area and headed off to World Mythology. Then another ninety minutes later she had Algebra – the last class of the day which let out at 3:15. Jasmine had hoped the anger she felt would have simmered down by now, but to no avail. After math Jasmine found herself more wound up than before; nerves coiling so tightly that the back of her head throbbed while her stomach clenched against a rock-hard pit.

This feeling would not be silenced until she felt she'd stood up for herself and regained high ground. As she got home Jasmine marched to her room, busted out her lap top and pulled up the class email list. Professor Jafar Mākir's name appearing at the top of the contact sheet. Jasmine typed at lightning fast speed letting her punctured ego speak through the tips of her fingers.

 _Dear Mr. Mākir,_

 _This is Jasmine Sahir from Chemistry 101. Today I came in late to class and disrupted the lecture, of which I apologized, and do so again now. I assure it will not happen again. However wrong my tardiness was, I am forced to bring to the light that your way of handling the situation was unethical at best. The way I was reprimanded, and ordered to drop from the course, has left me rather disappointed in the DKU's choice in staff. I was humiliated and degraded and I don't agree with how I was treated. I wanted to bring it to your attention that I have no means of dropping this course. Furthermore, if I continue to feel threatened i.e. bullied this matter will be brought to the Dean._

 _Thank you for your time._

After jasmine proofread the message twice, and changed some things around so it sounded less hostile and more mature, Jasmine hit the send button and closed the computer. She forced a breath of relief. It did feel slightly better to have at least said something, even if it wasn't the hundreds of curse words and slandering quips she had initially planned to write. Now all she had to do was put it out of her mind and let it blow over.

The phone rang. Jasmine looked at the screen. _Aladdin_. She gave a roll of the eyes and clicked _end_ silencing the call as it sent to voicemail. That was the tenth time today. And she had a dozen texts from him too. All of which she was determined to leave unanswered.

Aladdin and her were friends, on some level, but not enough to where she felt there needed to be reconciliation or any explanations given. He'd obviously taken advantage of her when she was drunk. There was nothing to say. Besides, the stress Mr. Mākir caused today had dampened her spirits considerably. With only a few hours left of the day she didn't want to spend her time on the phone having a long dramatic discussion over a one night stand.

The rest of the night, despite herself, Jasmine sill was unable to forget the way Mr. Mākir had treated her. She even checked her phone consistently while making dinner to see if he had responded to her email. He hadn't yet, of course. Which was both a relief and an aggravating delay – she wanted his answer now. Maybe the message should've been delivered face-to-face. It would definitely show she was a bold woman by not hiding behind a computer screen, but Jasmine feared she would become so angry and end up crying. Being stigmatized would only add salt to the wound.

Jasmine made herself and Hamed a salad with green spinach leaves, skinless chicken breasts and hard boiled eggs, with balsamic and lemon juice dressing. The healthiest type of dressing she could think of that he wouldn't entirely protest to. They ate and watched the 1971 film Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. One of her father's favorite movies. Although Jasmine didn't watch more than twenty minutes of it before finishing her plate and cleaning up the kitchen. She kissed Hamed goodnight and headed to her room to start on homework.

Textbooks were ridiculously expensive and thus far she had only purchased one for Algebra. The chemistry and mythology ones would have to wait another day or two when she had gotten paid from her father's factory for the time she put in over the summer.

For now, Jasmine looked over the notes she'd requested from another student. Phillip was his name. The guy that sat next to her in chemistry and had given her paper and a pencil; right before she was utterly humiliated by the teacher. Mākir . . .The slimy fucker.

 _Damnit, focus. He's stolen enough of your time today._

Jasmine shook the plaguing thoughts of Mr. Mākir once more, copying down the notes Phillip had sent her. When she had neatly put them all in her notebook Jasmine then started on some math homework. Around ten o'clock she finally called it a night. After taking a bubble bath, brushing her teeth, slipping into her PJs and climbing into bed, Jasmine turned on the illuminated screen and laid snuggled up under her comforter.

Jasmine checked her student email, for the sixth time, expecting to once again see no new messages. However, her stomach twisted itself into a ball as she viewed the name _Professor Jafar Mākir_ , in her inbox folder. Shakily taking a breath, Jasmine clicked open the unread message.

It read:

 _Good Evening Miss Sahir,_

 _I understand how overwhelming a first day in college can be for adolescents, and recognize that my standards for punctuality and preparedness are not easily attained by those with weaker resolutions. I teach under the principles of sacrifice and hard work and expect my students to extend a similar courteous mindset. I apologize for the inability to have met you at your current level. I can only hope that, with time, you will be able to perform the equivalent characteristics of a responsible, and sufficient, adult._

 _I was unaware that my suggestion of withdrawing and retaking the course, at a more appropriate time in your academic career, was perceived as a form of bullying. Such decisions are naturally left to the disposition of the student and not the professor. Albeit given the circumstances I suggest, once more, to refrain from taking chemistry 101 at this particular time. An advisor will aid you in finding a suitable class which will better prepare you for the attributes required when taking a higher-level course. I believe it best for your chances of succession; but I digress. If you do decide to stay I am hoping that you will use this class to practice the professional behaviors needed to function, successfully, in the industrial world of adulthood._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Professor Jafar Mākir._

"What . . . a dick." Jasmine slowly let out the curse then re-read the email a second time. He was insufferable and she was pretty sure she hated him even more after reading his email. Jasmine kept her next response cool and short.

 _Mr. Mākir,_

 _I'm sure you didn't intend to come off as arrogant so I will disregard the majority of your egregious email. Thank you for the apology, and I presume the atmosphere tomorrow morning will be less hostile._

 _Have a pleasant evening._

 _Perfect,_ she nodded patting herself on the back _, short and to the point with some edge to it._ Sass was _her_ thing and she would be damned if some know-it-all-pompous-ass of a teacher was going to make her feel insignificant. For tomorrow she would show up and prove that she deserved another chance and that she could handle _anything_ Mr. Mākir dished out.

But her confidence was only skin deep. She closed her eyes but couldn't still the quivering anxiety that plucked at her insides. She tossed and turned, playing out all the scenarios of how tomorrow might go. She assured herself that there wasn't lab on Tuesdays, so she would only have to deal with him for the short two-hour lecture. Still every time she imagined the classroom she saw dozens of judgmental eyes around her, the walls of the room closing in. But the darkened ones with golden flakes scared Jasmine most, and she broke out into a sweat trying to escape their alarming gaze.

By 4 am she gave up trying to sleep and got up for the day.

The shower ran while Jasmine picked out her clothing. A tanned pencil skirt, a turquoise button down blouse with a white tank underneath, and gold hooped earrings to match her gold flats. She wanted to look presentable this time, and more mature. Not that she had anything to prove, she told herself. But appearances mattered and she needed to look the part to better enforce it.

After she got out of the water and blow dried her hair Jasmine dressed and did a full set of makeup; accenting her thick lashes and mocha colored eyes while filling her pouty lips with a dark red lipstick. Her hair was pulled into a thick wound bun high on her head. The gold-plated earrings winking at her through her reflection. Jasmine then headed downstairs to make breakfast.

Hamed joined shortly after six although he'd been up for quite some time from joint pain. Along with his orange juice Hamed swallowed down six prescribed pills and two multivitamins. Jasmine grumbled that there wasn't any coffee in the house, and had to settle on water. The two ate conversationally. Jasmine feeling her anxious worry about first period melt as her father told a joke and made her laugh. A painful lug of water shooting out her nose. She had missed spending alone time with him, and was guiltily happy that Lucia hadn't been here this morning to intervene.

The doorbell rang, and Jasmine kissed her father goodbye, slipped on her shoes, grabbed her bag, which was prepared this time with materials for class, and met Esmerelda on the front porch. The two walked the few miles towards Nana's Café where their ride would meet to take them the rest of the way.

"Are you sure we can't get anything?" Jasmine questioned shoving her hands into her petticoat as they stood outside the café. Frigid autumn wind slapped hard against her revealed cheeks. Jasmine would do anything for a hot beverage right about now and furthermore felt the lack of sleep setting in. She needed caffeine _asap_.

"Nah, Pocahontas hates drinks in her car. You know how wealthy people are about their inanimate objects. We'll just get something at school," Esmerelda couldn't hide the stain of irritation on her lips.

Jasmine shrugged. She supposed if she had a BMW she would be a picky chauffeur as well. Pocahontas pulled up a few minutes later, and the girls headed up the road. The idle chatter a pleasant distraction for Jasmine as she momentarily pushed Mr. Mākir from her uneasy mind.

* * *

When they arrived at the university Jasmine had little less than half an hour until class started. Esmerelda and Jasmine stood in line at the school's Café Cart. The wafting fumes of muffins, scones, sugary warm pretzels, and coffee beans flooded the girls' senses. Both inhaling deeply as they rolled their eyes in an exaggerated pleasured fashion.

Jasmine adjusted the straps of her bag, zoning in and out of Esmerelda's rant about some professor as they waited – a Professor Frollo in Ethics. Admittedly Jasmine was a little too lost in her own problems to really pay attention.

"He's completely high and mighty in his discussions like there's a stick up his ass."

8am neared. Jasmine couldn't help looking at the clock on her phone. She felt like chickening out and going home ill. Esmerelda continued not noticing her friend's turmoil.

"Yesterday, for his very first lecture he talked about abstinence and the church. What year does he think this is anyways? And by the way, I swear to God he looked at me when he talked about prostitution."

"Probably a coincidence" Jasmine added absently while pulling a face.

"Know what I'm gonna do?"

They stepped forward in line. Now only one person ahead of them. Jasmine looked at Esmerelda waiting for the punch line.

"I'm totally gonna flirt with him and make him as uncomfortable as possible."

Jasmine laughed somewhere between a scoff and a snort. "Of course, you will. Well . . . at least you don't have to deal with _my_ teacher."

"I've been wondering . . . is he ugly? The article I read on him didn't have a photo."

"How is that relevant?"

"Well, if he is, that means he probably doesn't get laid. Sexual frustration is a real enabler of an asshole persona. Probably just needs to bust a nut." Esmerelda laughed as Jasmine pulled a sickened face.

"You're sick, you know that?" Jasmine laughed lightly elbowing Esmeralda as they stepped forward.

The line grew behind them as they placed their order; the two women resuming their conversation as they waited for their white mocha java and a blended chai latte.

"I don't think anyone would _ever_ want to fuck him." Jasmine said with a twisted tongue, not liking the context in which she was forced to envision her nemesis. "Mr. Mākir is a stuck up, pompous, little asshole. I'd be surprised if anyone has ever endured his bed –."

A throat cleared from behind.

Jasmine froze looking over to Esmerelda with widened eyes before they both turned slowly to peer behind. Professor Jafar Mākir stood there. Hands clasped in front atop his cane as he watched the two women with cool precision.

Jasmine heard herself gulp loudly while Esmerelda's mouth fell open; a surprising lustfulness filling her green eyes as she looked him over.

Professor Jafar Mākir was decked out in a pressed three-piece suit similar to the attire from yesterday. The only color splashed against the unforgiving midnight black was a red pocket kerchief, a red ruby ring, and the gold of his polished cane.

"Good morning ladies." He said in a calm way while giving a tick of a crooked smile.

The lines under his eyes creased slightly to make him look wiser and a lump stuck in Jasmine's throat. She couldn't help but think he was definitely a sexy older man and felt mortified for it as a blush inked the apples of her cheeks.

"Good morning Mr. Mākir." Jasmine spoke with timidity at first then quickly jutted her chin refusing to quiver beneath him. So what if he overheard their conversation? She had nothing to apologize for.

Esmerelda's abundant hair swished over a shoulder as she turned to look at Jasmine in disbelief, then back to Jafar, giving him a final once over. " _You're_ Professor Mākir? I've heard . . . so much about you." She said giving a coy smile as she extended her hand forward.

Jafar darted accusatory daggers at Jasmine and took Esmeralda's hand with a tight smile, "I'm sure you have. Though I presume you're capable of coming to your own conclusions and not led by hearsay."

Jasmine huffed looking towards the school courtyard through the massive windowed walls, the morning sun spilling through the thick glass paneling. This was humiliating on every level not to mention borderline betrayal by her best friend.

"Not at all sir, though I assume any rumors about you would be of the flattering sort. Actually, I know who you are based off the TIME magazine article and the one featured in DKU's newsfeed, and again in the Accounts of Chemical Research Journal."

 _For Christ's sake._ Jasmine rolled her eyes crossing her arms while Esmerelda took on a glow of a love-struck-fangirl.

Esmerelda went on. "A renowned chemist who was top of your class and runner up for Nobel Prize last year, which, if I might be so bold, _you_ should have rightfully won."

Jafar gave a throaty laugh never looking at Jasmine not matter how hard she stared at the two with a piercing anger.

The never-ending flattery continued, "And all of _this_ considering your background . . . sir, I just want to say you are so inspirational. And . . ." she gave a coquettish grin turning her voice into a seductive huskiness, "I would like to say that you are a very handsome man and nothing like I imagined a brilliant scholar to look like."

Jafar's smile was nearly splitting. Jasmine's mouth hung open, although her anguish seemed to go unnoticed by the two lugs.

"Why thank you my dear, it's always pleasant to meet a student who appreciates the richness of knowledge and those that harness its powers." He spoke with a rich texture avoiding the green-eyed girl's comment on his features.

Esmerelda bit her lip with a smile and Jasmine couldn't stand to see nor hear anymore. She scoffed turning on her heel to face the cart's measly countertop. Thankfully, the barista slid the orders across just in time. And then Jafar's.

"Coffee. Black. No sugar." The young red-haired girl repeated having already known his order beforehand and prepared it immediately. "Oh, no professor Mākir. It's on me." The girl gave a similar smile as Esmerelda had.

 _Seriously!? Was everyone infatuated by this smug bastard? HOW!?_

Jafar gave a quirk of the brow and put the neatly folded bill into a tip jar instead. Jasmine hadn't seen the quantity but the woman peeked in and looked more than grateful for his generosity. Jasmine inhaled with exasperation and blew it back out as she turned on her heel to walk away and be done with this disturbing scenario. She had expected Esmerelda to pick up on her queue and follow after. Esmerelda _did_ follow, except she stepped alongside Professor Mākir in the process. Their previous conversation continuing after she formally introduced herself. Every word falling on Jasmine like the clanking of heavy dumbbells.

"Yes, seriously, I am taking AP physics as a freshman. I love science but also love politics and sociology. Which just means it's difficult to settle on a major."

"I can imagine," Jafar laughed lightly, and the sound made Jasmine clench her teeth in the way a person will when hearing nails on a chalkboard. How dare her best friend mingle with the enemy? And further go over the top by making him laugh. She had lost sleep because of this man and Esmerelda's actions now were borderline anarchy.

Mr. Mākir's deep voice carried, "I have an excellent internship available during winter break for those who are interested in working within the scientific field. Clearly you are intelligent and devoted; something that is so rare to find especially amongst freshmen."

Jasmine nearly lost it at that point. If he had something to say he could say it directly to her face instead of these passive aggressive comments – which were clearly directed at her. Esmerelda giddied with excitement, and Jafar offered to send her the information.

"Well could you send it to Jasmine's student email instead, then she'll send it to me? Mine is fickle right now."

 _Oh goodie. Set me up to have more communication with him. Thanks bestie._ Jasmine grumbled inwardly too distressed to drink her latte.

"Of course, my dear." They exchanged another handshake as they stopped a few doors shy of the Chemistry room. Jafar stepped before both girls. "Miss Danseuse. Miss Sahir." he addressed Esmerelda first before giving a sly smile to Jasmine, then headed off to his classroom.

"Okay... there is no way that he has issues getting laid." Esmeralda snorted slurping on her drink. Jasmine pulled a face and fiercely stomped away with a roll of her eyes.

"What'd I do now?" Esmeralda threw up a hand in confused defense. Following after Jasmine with an apology.

* * *

Jasmine waited outside the locked classroom a quarter til eight along with the dozens of other students. The same girl that had given Jasmine a dirty look yesterday when leaving class stood across Jasmine, leaning her slender tall frame against the white brick walling while talking to a few peers. She gave Jasmine a dirty look then softened with a wayward smile.

"So, you're the girl that came in late yesterday, right?"

Jasmine pulled a face of embarrassment, "Yea, clearly something I won't live down anytime soon."

"Well . . . don't stress it. Too bad ya have to sit up front all semester though," the girl tossed auburn curls from her shoulder.

Jasmine grunted, "They're assigned to us the rest of the semester? God. So much for planning on fading into the background."

The classroom door unlocked exactly ten minutes before eight and opened quickly. Mr. Mākir kicked the stand down to stop the door from closing, and waited by the entrance giving everyone a formal yet impersonal greeting. Jasmine followed behind the other girl with her head down. He didn't say hi to Jasmine.

"I'm Megara by the way."

"Jasmine. Nice to meet ya."

The girls exchanged brief greetings and took their separately assigned seats.

Jasmine's valor evaporated upon learning she had to sit here the rest of the semester. It would be easier to distance herself from the jerk wad if she could get a backseat – which is also why she got here so early today. Now that she knew she'd have to keep close proximities to him the next few months, Jasmine was determined to keep silent and draw as little attention to herself as possible.

She almost made it an entire hour before that plan was shot to hell. Jasmine was diligently taking notes, zoning in on whatever the teacher said as well as the responses of the students that gave correct answers. She had done good so far, not looking at him even as he passed by her table, and avoiding turning to look back when he walked up the middle path. Therefore, for him to now call on her when she did _not_ have her hand up, was clearly a deliberate move of vindictiveness.

"I'm not sure," Jasmine gave a nervous laugh licking her lips and blinking away her embarrassment as Jafar gave a hardened stare from the front of the room.

The firm pressed sleeves of his suit powerfully folded in front of his broad chest. His tone dripping with ridicule. "Procure an estimated _guess_ then."

Jasmine knew he was trying to set her up for failure, but the trap was unavoidable. She withdrew a choked breath. "I don't have my textbook yet . . . So, I have _no_ idea what the answer is. Which is probably why I didn't raise my hand."

The class chuckled at that. Jafar was not so easily amused.

His tightlipped snarl accented Jasmine's uneasiness, "Miss Sahir. You are required to come to class with the material read the night before. That way, regardless of _how_ you're called on, you can have a shred of comprehension towards our discussion."

Jasmine rigidly sat in her seat locking eyes with his. She hated him and hoped its surging energy was being extended to him through her glare. "I will get my textbooks tomorrow."

Jafar's heavy eyes narrowed, "See that you do Miss Sahir." He turned his attention then to another student – of whom had the answer to the earlier stated question. "Thank you, Mr. Greyson. It's pleasant to see that there are still students capable of having their priorities set straight, and therefore come to class prepared. Others I fear may never attain a similar level of competence."

Jasmine slammed her pencil down on the flattop. Hard. Jafar's eyes snapped down to where she sat and the entire class stared with mild interest. Jasmine's pulse quickened and forced itself through her flared nostrils. His smugness was replaced with callousness. The impenetrable mask sending Jasmine a warning.

 _If that's' the way he wanted to play it, so be it. She had sent him her own warning and planned to follow through with it._

Jasmine stood abruptly, grabbed her things and stormed out of class letting the door slam behind her. It's thundering noise adding to the dramatization of her departure.

* * *

"I need to speak with the Dean, immediately." Jasmine addressed the receptionist with restrained heat, unable to hide her fury of being a victim of wrongdoing.

The short woman with hair fashioned into a beehive pushed the glasses up on her face. "Dean Mal will be with you shortly. Please have a seat." She wasn't rude but she wasn't cheery either. Probably due to dealing with outraged and whiney students all day.

Jasmine fought to gather the story in its entirety as she waited in the uncomfortable chair across from the receptionist's desk. She tried to re-piece each detail from the heated degradation of yesterday's conflict, as well as today's. Though she supposed it didn't truly matter if it was verbatim. The highlights counted most, she assured, calming a little at the thought of having less to memorize.

Firstly, she was discriminated against for being a woman. Jafar had commented on her intelligence limiting her aptitude to shopping for makeup and diet pills. The latter being borderline psychotic – but that was a whole other topic of its own. She would also tell the Dean that he had humiliated her and barred her from going to lab yesterday and from ever coming to class again. Bottom line: Mr. Mākir had crossed the line and she wanted him fired.

"Miss Sahir?" came a woman's rather deep set voice from across the carpeted office. Jasmine looked up from her lap.

The Dean wore brightly colored lips and a purple pant suit with black and green high heels. She beckoned Jasmine with a long finger and Jasmine came forward as if _she_ were the one in trouble.

"Lovely weather we're having, isn't it? I'm not usually one for the cold, but that sunshine is impeccable." The Dean spoke over her shoulder pads as they walked now on tiled floor, her heels clipping every meticulous step of the way.

 _Who still wore shoulder pads?_ Jasmine thought, momentarily distracted. They turned down a shorter hallway and reached an opened door. Jasmine knew this woman was trying to diffuse the situation by using small talk to gain Jasmine's trust.

 _Well not today madam!_

"The weather is fine I guess." Jasmine coldly stated, focusing back on her anger and the why's of her visit. She wouldn't be talked down from this. The Dean just tried to smooth over the victim so to avoid the hassle of firing a staff member. And that's what Jasmine was. A victim. Or so she believed.

"Please have a seat Miss Sahir. Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee or a water?"

"Cof – umm. No. Thanks. I'd prefer to get to straight to the issues at hand."

 _Dean Mal Spindle_ was the name embossed on the golden plate on the grand cherry oak desk. She sat on its opposite side from Jasmine, folding her hands in front as her arms rested with formality on it's top. Her nails were blood red, like her pursed lips, and long. Her washout blonde hair was pulled neatly back in a low set bun, wound as tightly as the suit jacket that clung to her busty chest. She delivered her message with a clipped tone. Indicating she had other pressing issues to attend to and wanted this _unscheduled_ meeting over with quickly.

"Then what can I do for you today, Miss Sahir?"

"Well . . . Umm –." Jasmine breathed a panicky laugh, "I'm sure you get this all the time . . . especially with newer students. But, I am having issues with a certain male teacher."

Dean Mal rolled her eyes as they closed with an aggravated flutter. She looked tiredly now at Jasmine, a flash of worried concern splitting her neatly composed features.

"Mr. Radcliffe . . . yes, someone else has come forward on the matter, and we are in the process of suspension until further investigation. However, your testimony will play a large part in pushing that along –," Dean Mal reached for a form and Jasmine waved her hands signaling the Dean to stop.

"No, no. Oh God, _no_. Nothing like that. I don't even know who – I mean it's nothing in that way. It's a different teacher. Jafar Mākir? _He's_ the one I'm having trouble with."

Dean Mal noisily gave a sigh of relief, recomposing herself as if she'd never lost her impersonal smiling expression. " _Professor_ Mākir you mean?" She put emphasis on the title, and Jasmine wondered if that was necessary.

"Yes . . . _Professor_ Mākir made me very uncomfortable and rather embarrassed yesterday and then again today. It began when I came in late for class on Monday, which I apologized for," Jasmine quickly added as to not lose credibility in her argument, "however, Mr. – er – Professor Mākir went on to tell me that I needed to drop his course and called me a dumb woman and immature."

"He used those words exactly?"

Damnit. Verbatim did matter, "No. Not exactly, but he said as much in his own way. He said my time would be better spent buying beauty products and diet pills."

Dean Mal worked her jaw but showed little else of concern, "Anything else?"

Jasmine's mouth turned into a topsy-turvy frown, "Well, yes. I found those comments misogynistic and extremely offensive to say the least. And I want to know what will be done about his behavior."

"I see." Dean Mal's tongue darted out and snuck back within her small mouth, "I understand where you are coming from, and assure you he will be addressed on the matter. I will gather his side of the story, but regardless, it will be handled." The older woman straightened suddenly stepping into an upbeat saleswoman type persona, "Our University is prided on nondiscrimination and I apologize for your first impression of our staff and school. I implore you to give us another chance. I'm sure you will come to see that each of our staff members act merely out of passion and are invested in aiding our students into a promising and fulfilling academic experience."

Jasmine blinked trying to process the mouthful of information. _Should I be relieved or concerned? Because you didn't address my issue. It just sounds like you're excusing him._

"Okay . . . but I am still angry. I want Mākir dealt with. He prohibited me from attending class and told me I had to drop out. I consider that completely inexcusable. I'm paying to be here, after all, and I want him to be held responsible." Jasmine hoped she was coming across as level headed while also being perceived as a strong confident adult. Both of which she was rarely skilled at.

"I understand entirely and will have the discussion with Professor Mākir later today."

Jasmine scoffed tucking her brows, feeling swept under the rug. "I'm sorry, but how is that effective? I still feel persecuted by him."

Dean Mal nodded steadily, closing her eyes as if believing her own lie that she cared about this issue, "Absolutely, Miss Sahir, your feelings are validated. Yet there is a procedure to be done before drastic measures can be taken. I will speak with him first, and he will then apologize for his mistakes and correct them. If he doesn't then that's when the necessary actions are enforced. Thus, I can promise that the rest of your semester will continue without interruption or pressure to withdrawal. Unless your grades were slipping tremendously, of course."

Jasmine shifted in the chair feeling an ache in her lower back from all the tension it had gathered over the last twenty-four hours. She didn't know if she should push for more on the matter or drop it. This entire conversation got away from her and seemed to be aimed at pacification and not at finding a solution.

Jasmine decided to cut her losses, "Okay then. Guess we'll just see. Thank you for your time."

They stood and shook hands, Dean Mal coming around to hold the door open for the young woman and then close it as Jasmine left.

Jasmine took her time walking through the crowded hallway. She'd definitely been cheated out of justice. Apparently, everyone was in love with the bastard, not just the college girls, and no one would support Jasmine's claim of being victimized by him.

She already knew what would happen. Mr. Mākir would apologize in some heartless fashion and go right back to making her life a living hell until she finally gave up and dropped the class. Well, he could try. But Jasmine was determined to prove to herself and everyone else that she was indeed a capable adult, and could handle anything the slime ball threw at her. Jasmine headed off to the bookstore with one mission in mind. Proving Jafar Mākir wrong. And if worst came to worst, she would do whatever necessary to bring him down a notch. Lord knew he needed it.

* * *

Jasmine muddled through the rest of the week without much interaction with Mākir. He sent an email apologizing for his actions, although it read as impersonal as an automated message. It went without saying that it failed to soothe her ire, but Jasmine had expected nothing short of what she'd been given. The young woman instead continued to make a stand by focusing tirelessly on the overflowing amount of classwork. She had gotten the last of her textbooks and had been up late each night reading, taking notes, and fulfilling assignments for all three classes. Chemistry being the most demanding of all.

By Friday Jasmine was functioning on an abundance of caffeine and close to zero hours of sleep. On top of that Aladdin hadn't stopped blowing up Jasmine's phone and had even stopped by twice at her house. Both times she'd had Hamed send him away and tell him she was sick. Though her father gave a questioning look, he did her bidding and didn't pry. Jasmine planned on facing Aladdin again soon; that is only after she had gotten a handle on being a college student and having a brutal chemistry teacher.

Jasmine now read over her notes for what felt like the millionth time to cram any last-minute details in before the quiz began. Her phone rang loudly and she silenced it, shoving it in her purse. Her mind was in a haze from lack of food and sleep and Aladdin's harassment was not helping by any means. He needed to take a hint and just let her go.

Professor Mākir – she had stopped referring to him as _mister_ at the advice of Megara – handed out the quiz at exactly eight am; ordering that all bags, textbooks, and items be taken off their desks except for a writing utensil. Once they got their papers they were allowed to begin the thirty-minute assessment.

Jasmine had thought she knew the material. Had spent several hours studying for this quiz ever since Tuesday. Plus, she had extra to catch up on since she had gotten her books so late. She hated to admit it, and never outwardly would, but Professor Mākir had been right when he stressed the importance of keeping up with the reading material. Though she wanted to argue for an extension – on the pretense that she hadn't had the same amount of time as other students to learn the material – she refrained from that impulse and fought to do her best. She needed a good grade, or at least a passing C, but with her mind foggy the words looked like gibberish. And just like that, everything she had retained flew out the window, leaving Jasmine panicked and at a loss.

Then, before Jasmine began, time was up.

"Pencils down and quizzes flipped over and passed to the right." All students obeyed immediately, except for Jasmine who had barely registered what the professor said while re-reading one of the questions.

" _Miss Sahir_ , that includes you!" came Professor Mākir's booming voice. Jasmine snapped up fumbling to flip her test once she realized her neighbor, Phillip, was handing down the other ones. He gave her an empathetic look.

"Sorry." Jasmine whispered to no one in particular and passed the tests down along with her half-finished one. Then covered her face in her hands for a moment to keep from crying. She was exhausted and overwhelmed and now knew she failed the first test. Any hopes of saving face with her instructor was null and void by this point, and Jasmine felt like giving up.

Professor Mākir collected the quizzes from each end cap, then gave the class some equations to work through while he took the papers back to his desk and sorted through them. He quickly found Jasmine's, took one disgusted look at the half-finished work, and beckoned her forward with a crooked finger. Jasmine grimaced stumbling along the way as she tripped over her own feet. Her klutziness far more prudent than normal.

He didn't say anything. Didn't have to. He held up the test so she could see her handiwork by the time she'd come to the front. Jasmine rubbed the back of her arms feeling defeated. Half the paper was incomplete while the other half looked like a train wreck of pencil marks and poorly erased smudges; answers that she had second guessed and changed, and then changed back, had left the once white sheet mottled with gray streaks.

"I'm not going to grade this. It's an insult to my intelligence and my time. It will have to be an automatic F."

Jasmine scoffed but it came in a whimpering gasp. Jafar's deadpan features flinched at the unexpected brokenness of Jasmine's appearance. Her lip quivered and she looked away feeling tears prick her eyes.

"You win," she said hoarsely with a broken smile. Her vision blurring as she met his dark eyes once more. Jasmine turned back to her seat, picked up her items by leaning over the front of the table and quietly hurried out the door, her pace increasing as the tears steam rolled.

The Professor had been right about her after all. She simply was not cut out for this class; and possibly college as a whole. He had called her stupid and immature; and that's exactly how she felt as she slunk against a solid oak tree and dialed Aladdin's number; seeking the familiar comfort of boys and booze.

* * *

 **Thank you as always for reading and reviewing. Reviews are appreciated always and forever because they help to motivate me and become a better writer.**

 **Hope you enjoyed, and I will post again as soon as I can!**

 **P.S. DKU is what I named the college. (Disney Kingdom University.) Silly huh? lol**


	4. Chapter Four

**Thank you for the reviews guys!**

 **Side Note: I redid the first chapter (condensing chapter one and two into one thing). If you haven't read it feel free to. It's much better than the original and introduces a different character as well as gives better insight to past events and the Sahir family. I'm sorry to do that to you but thought it best to fix. I promise it won't happen again. (Redone 3/11/2017)**

 **Onward and Upward**

* * *

Jasmine shook out her hands trying to gain feeling back in them as she fumbled for her phone in her bag. She sniffed loudly, pressed Aladdin's contact info, and scratched at the gooseflesh on the back of her arm as she supported her elbow.

Aladdin answered halfway through the first ring breathing as if he'd just been jogging. The rapid breaths came through the speaker like musky static. "Jaz, thank God . . . I can't tell you how. I mean – what I'm saying is." His throat cleared bringing down his pitched voice, "Hey, Jasmine. How are you?"

She bowed her head closing her eyes, "Not too good." That was an understatement.

"What's wrong? Have – are you crying?"

Jasmine shook her head 'no' sucking her lips under her teeth to prevent a whimper as her chin quavered. She cleared her throat twice, "I need you to um . . . that is, I was hoping I could see you."

"When?"

Jasmine licked her lips, "Right now."

She heard him hesitate and speak to someone else in the distance before speaking directly into the phone again. "Okay, not a problem. I'll take an early lunch. You at the college?"

"Yeah."

"Be there in twenty minutes or so."

She didn't say anything, which said plenty.

"Can you _handle_ another twenty minutes?" Aladdin spoke in a soothing voice.

No. She could not. In fact, she very well was capable of collapsing on the ground and willing to let bystanders call an ambulance for her. The thought had merit and Jasmine briefly envisioned how long she could pretend to be unconscious for.

"Yeah. See ya then." She hung up and slunk the device in her jean pocket, coming to the base of a tree.

The sun disappeared behind the clouds again. Today was ominously grey with little penetration of light. Now that another roll of clouds had blocked the rays the heavens turned to a deep earthy tone of muted darkness. Just as well. It matched Jasmine's emotions perfectly. Jasmine slid down the trunk and dug her knees into her chest finding her breathing coming back to a normal pace.

Why did she walk out like that? It had all happened so quickly, senses heightened all while her vision narrowed like trying to squeeze through the tunnel of a straw. Professor Mākir flunked her first quiz, and within seconds she wasn't in control anymore. Now, sitting outside with cold fresh air cutting through her jacket, Jasmine saw a little clearer. The heat of pride faded.

Perhaps she could've handled the situation differently. Given him an excuse as to why her test was miserably done and unfinished. Though he more than likely wouldn't have listened. But even then, she should have taken it with a grain of salt, put some pride in her stride and finished out class with a hint of optimism. If she were like Esmerelda, or Ariel, or even a dozen others she knew, who had go-getter outlooks and resilient thick skin to harsh commentary, then that's exactly how the scene would have played out.

But Jasmine wore her heart for all, carrying it around with her like a bleeding wounded puppy, seeking for someone to hear her out and help carry the burden with her.

Jasmine rubbed at a spot under her ear feeling the smooth flawlessness of her jaw with the palm of her hand. Jasmine wished to simply have a do over. To begin the week from scratch and take back the events that led her to this breaking point. _One week in – five days – and you're crumbling at the seams. Pathetic._

Jasmine rolled her neck and imagined herself far from the college. Far away from the little town. And far from the image of Mākir's disappointed look when she'd stormed out of his class for the second time.

She was pathetic indeed.

* * *

He hadn't intended to peep, it was a mere coincidence. Although if that were the case in its entirety he would've stepped away from the window by now. But he couldn't. Miss Sahir was slumped against the tree, her profile visible from the angle of his office, up on the fourth floor. One minute was understandable, five borderline creepy, but he stood there for a total of ten minutes watching her. The belief that it was a coincidence null and void by then. But Jafar remained without remorse.

Jafar had broken protocol and given the class a short recess instead of the usual nine am discussion. Jafar, being a creature of habit, found that taking an unscheduled break was practically blasphemous. But he'd needed a moment to be alone and away from the girl's perfume which had lingered by his desk long after she'd stormed off. Here in his office there would be no trace of her and he could think free of her toxins. Or so he'd thought.

Jafar drew breath and expelled it coarsely.

He hadn't meant to make her cry, not this time at least. He'd done much more detrimental actions to students who had created far less discord; she should count herself as one of the lucky ones. Yet she still had looked at him as if he'd shot her grandmother.

Miss Sahir's quiz was sloppy, just like the rest of the work she'd been producing since day one; i.e. coming into class over an hour late and turning his world upside down every day since. Had she truly thought she could break him down with the bat of her eyes and a few poorly written emails?

A man like himself and a girl like that? It was almost villainous to entertain her antics; she'd never had a chance to win in this power struggle, yet for whatever reason, Miss Sahir wouldn't stop. And he had simply allowed the charade to carry on far longer than necessary. There was no need to second guess his methods regarding her test. He'd simply done his job in taking her down from the pedestal she'd built on an inflated ego and self-entitlement. She was used to getting her way and bulldozing over those with weak constitutions. But she'd never had a chance – it would be best for her to leave.

Jafar realized he still stared. He really should bow out from watching but his body wouldn't listen to reason. A truck had pulled up at the curb, a young man jumping from the seat and up the hill, not losing a moment to even close the car door. Jafar smirked – apparently, all men were drawn to her. A fact that should have made him feel better about his own weakness, but didn't.

Jasmine stood, the boy pulling her to his side as a meaty arm wrapped around her shoulders, their descent done side by side.

Jafar's face pinched.

Of course, that was probably her beau – a sweaty brutish moron by the looks of it. Cut off sleeves, greasy shaggy hair and a beat up rust bucket of a truck – how predictable. Jafar's jaw hurt from clenching his teeth so vivaciously. He worked out the kink, stiffening like a new pencil as he watched her disappear into the front seat. _That girl isn't her – no one can replace what you've lost._

Jafar clutched the head of his cane and hardened his mind. He let the cheap blinds slap together as he released his finger; the pickup pulling off campus. Jafar dusted at an invisible scuff on his sharp shoulder and headed back to class.

Miss Sahir would have to be dealt with accordingly – ditching class to be with some hippy, after trying to have him fired, was over the line inexcusable. He'd simply have to get to her in a more ruthless manner, and teach her the repercussions for wasting his time once more.

* * *

Though her head was turned from him, she could hear the in and out of Aladdin's voice when he would turn to serenade her and then turn back to face the road again. He reached an octave too high above his range and his voice cracked. But he kept singing anyways. She knew it was to try and cheer her up; Aladdin hoping that his own bubbliness could be past off to her like a game of hot potato.

Though thoughtful, it was futile.

Jasmine's mouth turned downward breaking away from the view of small businesses and homes. Aladdin's eyes were shut for an instant and mouth contorted into a screaming unhinged silent scream. Jasmine leaned forward, stabbed the radio button and sat back, giving Aladdin a stern motherly look to not turn it back on. The low humming of the engine was the only noise left between them.

Aladdin open and closed his hands-on top the steering wheel, giving a jittery nod and focusing on the road. She looked outside once more, shoulders drooping and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She was thankful he had come to get her, but wasn't willing to listen to anymore 1980's heavy metal – or pretend to be amused for his sake. She was miserable and wanted to wallow without being pestered.

"Mind if we make a quick drive up the mountains?"

A short inhale, "You can just drop me off at home If you want. I forgot you have to go back to work."

"Ay, you need cheerin' up. That's my _only_ job for today." He covered her slack hand, which was on top of her knee, with his calloused one, "Imma just make a quick stop. No big deal, kay?"

Jasmine gave a fleeting smile and kindly pulled her hand out from under his, tucking it between her legs and drawing closer to the door to deter his affections. He retracted and fell silent, the truck turning down an unmarked dirt road to ascend deep into the forest.

They came to a clearing where there was a mass array of machinery. Aladdin called it a harvest site: where the trees were felled and trunks were bucked into manageable lengths and then carried over to the lumber mill. Aladdin pointed to each as they passed, Jasmine feigning interest with a slight nod.

"That one is a delimber, used to remove branches and such from the felled trees. And that one is a logging truck used to take the felled bases back to the mill where the real fun begins. That's the one I drive most!" He was hyped up, the former tension between them vanquished as he rambled off more machine names and their functions.

Jasmine caught the words _skidder_ , _forwarder_ , and _harvester_. They all looked the same traffic cone orange color and were similar in shape, but apparently, they all had separate functions.

It reminded Jasmine of an ant colony. How each one brought its own skills and strengths to come together as one for a common end goal. Jasmine wished she could be part of something like that. Chances were, however, that she would only screw everything up and bring the entire operation down with her.

Aladdin and her hopped out of the truck.

"Wait over there. I'll be a minute." Aladdin lumbered off towards some enormously muscular man whose size was double that of Aladdin's in girth and height. The two spoke out of earshot while Aladdin pointed to her direction; the man crossed his beefy arms and gave Jasmine a grimacing gaped-tooth smile.

Maybe it was a bad idea to come up here with Aladdin, or to have even called him. She still was unsure how she felt about their incident from last week, and it was sort of awkward to be here with him at his job as if they were dating. Instead of being in school, with her real friends, where she belonged. Plus, she was missing lab in chemistry. They only had it three days a week, and now she'd missed two of them. Although it might not matter now. She'd walked out and was unsure if that constituted a withdrawal.

Jasmine watched the dead pine needles beneath her feet as she dug the toe of her boots in the dirt to make a crunching noise. Some men with hardhats and vests gave a whistling howl from across the way and Jasmine looked up.

"Hey Mama! You lookin' fine as hell girl." One of the men with dark skin and a perfect smile called out with a tilt of his head, his thumbs tucked in his front pockets.

Another man elbowed the first in approval. He was shorter but built like a pit bull with massive shoulders and arms. "You look like you can take a big cock, baby. How's about you come over here and hop on." He groped himself through denim jeans and the other four whistled, jeering as they blew kisses and made vulgar gestures with their tongues.

She crossed her arms, cocked her hips to the side and straightened the length of her spine. With as much sass as she could muster Jasmine said, "Sorry, I prefer _men_. Not insecure little boys you have to assert their sexuality by drawing attention to their small dicks."

"Ooh shit – she's calling you out Vince!" the first guy laughed.

Vince shoved the dark-skinned man, "Fuck you Donny." Then turned attention back to Jasmine, his neck visibly corded even at a distance. "You like talking shit? Come over here and say it to my face and watch me put that whore mouth to better use."

Jasmine's mouth fell open, her heart raced as short quick breaths ran from her mouth like a steam engine. She clenched her fists at her side and stepped forward, but then was pulled back by Aladdin who caught her around the elbow.

"Aladdin . . . did you hear how they were talking to me!?" Her voice quavered with rage.

He nodded quickly, trying to pull her away as he avoided looking in the direction of the other workers.

"So, _do_ something!" Jasmine broke his hold and planted her feet refusing to back down from a group of male chauvinistic pigs. Even if she had to march over there alone to smack them clean across the face.

"Are you kidding me?" His voice was urgent and strained, "I work with them, I'm not gonna start a damn bar fight. Besides, they're twice my size! Just ignore them," he gave a look as if _she_ were the unreasonable one causing problems then took her hand and successfully led her back to the pickup.

Jasmine stomped her foot crossing her arms as Aladdin climbed into his side of the truck.

"Jaz, seriously?"

She rolled her eyes, flung open the door then slammed it as hard as she could, buckling herself in and crossing her arms once more.

"This aint over," Vince hollered and Jasmine pressed the button to roll up her window. "Aint nobody talk to me that way and get away with it. Ay, pansy ass, bring your bitch back over here."

Jasmine could still hear him through the glass and closed her eyes to focus on the choppy mew of the engine. Aladdin pulled the truck into reverse, spun around, and shifted the stick into first as they began pulling down the dirt path once again.

They sat in silence for the fifteen minutes it took to finally get out of the mountains.

"Who was that guy you were talking to?" Her voice was as tight as her posture.

"My boss. Ray." Aladdin whispered with a cracking pitch. He cleared his throat adjusting in his seat. "He gave me the rest of the day off. I told him you're my cousin."

"Gross." Jasmine's top lip curled, "He just let you go because you wanted to spend time with a," she pulled a face, " _cousin_?" Why couldn't he have called her a friend or something other than a blood relative? Especially after the fact that they'd slept together. It was just an ick factor to pretend they were of the same gene pool, all things considered.

"Well. I might have told him you're my recently _widowed_ cousin, who lost her home and husband in a fire just the other day." Aladdin's flat mouth pulled down into an arch giving a mischievous boyish look to his otherwise solemn face.

Jasmine's scowl split, and she swatted his arm, "You did not lie to him like that! Oh, my God, Aladdin. What if I see him in town? How do I even look old enough to be a widow?"

Aladdin gave a simple wink, his charm returning, "Pretty genius huh? Now . . . I believe I had cheering up to do."

Jasmine worked her slack jaw trying to keep from smiling, "Unbelievable." She shrugged with her hands.

"Actually, it was quite believable. I even teared up a little when reliving the _incident_ ," he used air quotation marks with a free hand while parentheses formed around his deep-set smile.

Jasmine stifled a laugh, clamping her lips together as she shook her head and looked away – she shouldn't encourage him and was still peeved by his lack of defense in her honor.

"So, what should we do first? Bowling Arcade or ice-cream?"

Jasmine's bottom lip turned out, her round nose crinkling, "Ice-cream at ten am? _Bleh_ , hard pass."

"Arcade, it is then." Aladdin flipped back on the radio tuning it to some country which was at the course of _Sweet Home Alabama_. Aladdin picked up singing again, this time his voice molding perfectly to the easy melody, his free arm hanging out the window with his other outstretched on the steering wheel. His triceps flexed as he steered and Jasmine looked away, unimpressed – _He could've taken those guys if he really wanted._ But she admitted it wasn't Aladdin's fault that she had wanted a savior and appointed him without asking and let it go.

In truth, the entire day had sucked from the moment she'd woken up. She'd spilled coffee on her favorite t-shirt, had stubbed her toe while rushing to get ready, then flunked her test, walked out of chemistry in a pathetic defeated manor, and then had to deal with a gaggle of heathens. She was determined to remain sour and even thought of going home and curling under her blankets.

But as the sun stepped out of hiding a gentle warmth filled the truck, and Jasmine rolled her window down, taking in the rich smells of fresh air and exhaling all the negativity that had built up all week. Aladdin sang louder and tickled her side making her choke out a laugh, and finally give in to a sincere smile.

"The day will get better," Aladdin grinned as if reading her mind, "I promise. And maybe after lunch, we can make margaritas."

Jasmine lit up at that, and softened her rigid form, joining Aladdin as they sang along to the radio and drove through town.

* * *

Jafar trudged through the halls of DKU after his afternoon Organic Chemistry class commenced. The blasted lecture room for that particular class was located in a separate part of the college, this year, which meant Jafar had to endure the grueling walk through more than half of the main building and then through the science section to get to his office.

It was after 1pm. Only three more hours until he would be done for the day and he planned on drinking wine by the fireplace and strumming over the endless heap of poorly executed assignments.

College goers and the occasional colleague pushed through the hallways in either direction. Someone tripped and fell smacking their chest hard into the tile as their backpack lost a few notebooks and a banana peel. The clumsy nature of the student reminded him of Miss Sahir's first day in class – he shook away the image of her rather quickly, watching presently as the fallen student laid motionless on the ground. Jafar thought of offering to help her up when someone else beat him to the punch – and he carried on.

The pounding of his cane was like a siren to those in his way. The students turning behind themselves and then leaping out of his way to let him pass. Even the largest of men would behave in a similar fashion and made a point to stay out of Jafar's path and even send a respectful nod in his wake.

Even though Jafar liked the effect his renowned ruthlessness carried, he was always patiently waiting for an unknowing moron to cross him. To give him a reason to unleash the wrath of his unredeemable soul. As was the usual, it would happen soon enough – and each time it did the purge would be cleansing and rejuvenating. So far though all Jafar had been given lately was a back talking emotionally erratic teenager. Hardly a challenge. Hardly worth it.

He rounded through the hall, across the café lobby area, and at long last, towards his office. A few stragglers came through in passing but other than that the hallway had been pleasantly bare.

A petite brown haired girl nearly ran into Jafar just as he reached the end of the hallway. He was ready to lash out at her when his face turned pleasant and he inflicted a honeyed façade.

"Good afternoon Professor." The Dean's assistant – an interning sophomore – hugged her armful of documents and books to her chest, as she sputtered a brief hello. "Sorry – I wasn't watching where I was going."

"All is forgiven, Miss French." He smiled kindly glancing momentarily over Belle's timid reserved manner. "Were you looking for me?"

"Y-yes, I tried to meet you in your office. But you, clearly aren't in there." She laughed shakily. Jafar gave a knowing look.

" _Clearly_." He showed his teeth. "Were you able to attain the information I needed?"

She nodded and fumbled to pull out a Manila folder from her cluster filled arms. "This is the student's full file with her application, contact information and transcripts." She worried her lip with hesitant eyes, "If Dean Mal finds out I took it from her cabinet . . . I could lose my job."

She was so mousey Jafar wanted to snap a wire bar on her neck and end her pitiful existence.

"Never you mind that, Miss French, I promise to leave you out of this. You've done more than enough."

She smiled with uncertainty but didn't say anything further on the matter. "Is there anything else you need, Professor Mākir?"

"Only for you to enjoy the rest of your day, my dear." He bared his teeth, continued past her, and closed himself within the shade drawn office.

Jafar shrugged off his suit jacket, leaving himself in a charcoal grey dress shirt and black vest with a red tie. He stretched out both arms adjusting his sleeves as he plopped down at his desk and thumbed through the thin folder as he ate a red crisp apple.

* * *

"Just do it. Do it now – God, Jasmine don't look around. That's so obvious!"

Jasmine giggled and gave a snort as she covered her mouth with a hand. Aladdin jeered with his own drunken laughter and gestured wordlessly for Jasmine to try again.

"I can't." She giggled, "I can't. It won't fit." Jasmine held up the large bottle of spirits to compare it to the minute space inside her cardigan.

"Okay. It's not about size. Size doesn't matter, it'll fit –." Jasmine whinnied loudly at Aladdin's comment clutching her belly as she gasped for air. "That wasn't a sex joke, Jaz. _Shit_. You're so drunk." Aladdin said throatily with another laugh.

Jasmine clutched the large plastic bottle of booze to her bodice as her and Aladdin nonchalantly stood in the liquor aisle of the supermarket. Eric and Ariel had come over to the house and Charming brought a buddy of his, Naveen, after he'd gotten off work. It had turned from a pity party of two into a full-scale shindig. Bu midnight Aladdin had appointed himself and Jasmine to run out and get more booze and snacks.

Only problem was Aladdin said he left his wallet at home and only had a twenty in his jeans and now was coaching Jasmine how to be the perfect partner in crime.

Unfortunately for the skilled artisan Jasmine was a terrible student – just ask Professor Mākir – and she couldn't stop laughing while fumbling to conceal the item.

"You're adorable, you know that?" Aladdin peeked around the deserted aisle and opened Jasmine's beige top. He tucked the bottle underneath her arm, closed the cardigan back up and positioned Jasmine as if she were a doll being molded into a factory produced pose.

"There. No one can tell. Just keep your upper half like that." He poked her nose and swooped in to kiss her lips when a sudden appearance made him jolt back on his heels.

Aladdin saw a well-groomed man with piercing eyes and hard angled features. He hadn't even heard him approach – which was all the more startling. The man watched the two of them with eyes of onyx and a smug look about him that suggested he was all knowing and all powerful.

Jasmine's reflexes were delayed but soon she saw the cause for Aladdin's stiffness and quickly felt her blissful high drain from her pores. Jasmine wondered if it was too late to sprint in the opposite direction and pretend like she'd never seen him. But the silence carried on like a death sentence she couldn't avoid and Jasmine remained grounded. Telling herself she wasn't terrified.

"Good evening Miss Sahir." Jafar produced a business-like grin resting his hands calmly on his elegant cane.

Jasmine didn't respond and shifted as she looked to Aladdin and then to the ground. Jafar pulled his eyes from her and to the boy she was with.

Sensing Jasmine's uneasiness Jafar continued gently, "I so happened to be shopping for a few essentials when I noticed a familiar face, and thought to see if you were keeping well."

Jasmine bit her lip all too aware of the smoky nature of her Professor's eloquent speech. She flushed as he caught her staring at him, and she looked away. Aladdin took a breath holding it in his chest for a moment as he began to feel like a third wheel. He didn't care too much for the way this strange creep was staring at Jasmine, or how she suddenly looked so flustered by him.

Aladdin shoved out a calloused hand, "Hey man, nice to meet ya. Name's Aladdin."

"I'd rather not. Flu season and all." Jafar sneered looking at Aladdin's hand as if it were infested with unspeakable diseases and the boy pulled back his hand and slid it in his pocket. Jafar turned his attention back to Jasmine – of whom kept an awkward stance with her feet pigeon-toed.

"I must say I'm surprised to see you out at this hour, Miss Sahir. You left my class so early today I presumed you to have fallen ill."

Jasmine glared at him her entire face scrunching as if she'd eaten something sour. He knew why she left and the bastard somehow or another, no matter how crazy it was to believe, had tracked her down at the supermarket to yet make a spectacle of her in front of an audience.

Aladdin once again found the need to interject, "Well she's fine, man but thanks anyways for lookin' after my girl."

"Not to be rude, but I don't believe I was speaking to you, boy." Jafar bared his teeth giving a look that delineated a hidden capacity for rage. Aladdin instantly wielded his mouth in the corners.

Jasmine's pulse quickened at how dangerous Mākir suddenly appeared. An alarming excitement told her there was a rich and deep seeded darkness within him. A deviant shadow rooted itself behind the gold color of his eyes and Jasmine's lips parted as she studied the composed man. He looked like something that jumped out of a GQ catalog that would read as followed: 'S _exy older men with class and charisma. Twenty ways he can make you cum like no other lover has before!'_ She nearly laughed out loud but caught the gist of it in her throat in the form of a small noise. Blast her for having a filthy drunken mind.

"Aladdin, can I have a moment alone to speak with my professor?"

Jafar glanced at Jasmine curiously while Aladdin looked like he'd been stung in the face by a hornet.

"Are – are you sure?" Aladdin cupped the small of her back tentatively and pressed his front into her side.

Jasmine glanced towards Jafar acutely aware of his relentless watchful eyes. She wasn't even sure why the hell it mattered, but a panic swept over her, worried that Jafar might mistake her and Aladdin as a couple. Not that she should give a rats ass what he thought; but Professor Mākir already looked down on her and she couldn't afford to lose anymore brownie points with him by being labeled as Aladdin's girlfriend.  
Jasmine slunk away from his touch, "Yeah, I'll be along in a minute. Kay?"

He gave her puppy dog eyes, feeling uneasy about leaving her alone. "Alright then I guess . . . I'll be nearby if you need me," he watched Jafar for a moment suspiciously, "If you need _anything_ at all, Jaz you just holler for me, alright?"

Jafar flashed a tightlipped smile and Aladdin soon was gone. Leaving Jasmine at the mercy of her Professor.

"I do apologize if I've interrupted date night, Miss Sahir." Jafar said coolly.

That's _precisely_ what she didn't want him to think! Jasmine would've put her hands on her hips in rebuttal had she not still been awkwardly concealing booze, and she stammered to redact his assumptions.

"No – oh. We're not. I mean it looks like – but we're, um." Jafar tucked his eyebrows trying to decipher Jasmine's ramblings. Which only made Jasmine ramble all the more. "He's not my boyfriend. He's – my cousin. Nope – ha. I'm not sure why I said that. That's not true either."

Jafar cocked his head to the side and hid, very well, any amusement he might've had – other than a sly tick at the corner of his firm mouth.

Jasmine hated how idiotic she sounded. Had she not been splurging in the bottomless pit of alcohol today she would have had a wittier word choice and played everything aloof. Jasmine huffed giving up and cutting to the chase.

"Just – why are you here? Did you . . ." _Follow me because ruining my day wasn't enough for you, you also need to destroy my happiness at night._ She sighed, "What do you want?"

He eased back into his stance and spoke with calm certainty. "Despite what is rumored about me, Miss Sahir, I _am_ in fact human and occasionally need to shop."

Jasmine blushed for being so damn egotistical. She'd had a punch line set up in case a banter ensued and now she felt stupid and childish. (The way he inevitably made Jasmine feel each time she was in his presence.)

"I'm sorry. That was rude of me, I'm just a little . . . out of it. This whole week, actually."

"I see." He made a deep throaty noise as if he'd just unlocked every intimate part of her mind and Jasmine's belly flip flopped. Its perseverance wreaking havoc on her nervous system. If she didn't get her hormones under control she would have to be popping antacids each time she was near Professor Mākir.

"Now, Miss Sahir, I have a question for _you_." He said impassively at first, but Jasmine smelled the hint of peril. "Has it occurred that if you'd spent less time drinking cheap booze and _stealing,_ that you would have more time to spend on studying, and committing to attendance?"

Jasmine looked around for a passerby to interrupt. But she was entirely alone with Jafar. He took a prowling step towards her and she stepped away in unison – her chest tight and hands turning clammy.

Jafar paused momentarily, "Calm yourself, dear. I don't bite."

But something about him told her otherwise. That he would indeed bite down on her with dripping poisonous fangs. He was capable of chewing her up and spitting her out like the carcass of a spit ball. She should run. Scream. Call for Aladdin or the supermarket security. But Jasmine's knees locked in place along with her jaw; even as Professor Mākir erased the last bit of comfortable distance between them.

"I – I don't know what you're talking about . . . I don't drink – I'm only eighteen." Jasmine knew her lie was terrible but prayed he would buy the messily wrapped package of bull shit an be on his way.

Instead he swooped down in one smooth motion and inhaled her breath through his nose. Jasmine's eyes shot open, jaw slackened and her arms clung deep to her sides. He was there for no more than a fraction of a second, but for Jasmine time ceased to exist. Jasmine could smell his rich cologne mingled with the warmth of his body. His jawline was sharp and strong and the goatee that outlined its shape had a silky sheen and Jasmine longed to run the tip of her tongue along the thick clean hair.

As he had smelled her mouth Jasmine took in the scent of his – heady with red wine and a tinge of sweet peppers and garlic. It made her head dizzy and bore life to an image of Jafar alone in his home cooking a gourmet meal and drinking age old wine. Her filthy mind ran away with the rest of the scene again and Jasmine nearly missed what Mākir had said.

"I'm sorry what?"

He glowered keeping a dark warning in his eyes, "The only thing I despise worse than an indolent individual is one who is senseless enough to lie to me. Now. You've already proven yourself as falling into one of those categories, I suggest you not partake in a second."

Jasmine swallowed trying to harden her face to match his but instead she felt her eyes prickle with trembling fear and pulled her body inward.

"Luckily for you I'm willing to make a deal, Miss Sahir. If you return what's hidden beneath your garment and get a taxi home, since your chauffer is unashamedly more intoxicated than you, I will give my word to forget tonight ever happened. And we can presume to go about the rest of the semester without further melodramatics."

Jasmine jutted out her chin trying to lengthen her spine. "And if I don't agree?"

He smiled tightly, pleased she'd asked him to list off his idea of punishments. "I'll see to It _personally_ for that boy to be tossed into the darkest, unforgiving, cellblock in county lockup. And furthermore, be forced to bring your underage drinking to the board of the University."

"You wouldn't dare . . ."

"Oh, I can assure you I'm a man of my word." He sneered wickedly, "But if you'd rather take your chances, be my guest."

Jasmine found her dander suddenly up, "What I do with my personal life, and who I do it with, is no one's damn business. Especially, _yours_."

"You're absolutely right," He showed his teeth, "But I'll make it my business just the same."

Jasmine challenged for a moment longer, but caved in to his unrelenting threat, rolling her neck dramatically as she stomped over to the shelf, replaced the cheaply made vodka and crossed her arms to face him again.

"Happy now?"

He gave an easy nod and a brief smile and went to continue on his way, when it dawned on Jasmine that she didn't have money for cab fare, and that her bookbag was still in Aladdin's truck. She knew Aladdin would be mad at her for not sleeping over – and by further account for taking a ride from a stranger – but it wasn't up to him. They weren't a couple. They'd already had the entire day together, which constituted as more than enough. Plus, it wouldn't be easy to keep her end of the bargain to Mākir if she gave in to peer pressure from Aladdin and so, to remain true to her word as well, Jasmine justified the next thing she did.

"Professor, wait. Would, _you_ be willing to take me home?"

* * *

Jafar watched as Jasmine bit into the soft pink flesh of her lip with little white teeth. The swell of her breast rose like luxuriant hills peeking out from her tight-fitting tank top, and implored her inwardly to close her damn sweater so he could think clearly while driving. She fidgeted in her seat, crossing her legs as she twiddled her thumbs mindlessly and stared out the window. Her hair was pulled to the one side which left Jafar hopelessly entranced by the throbbing pulse point of her creamy bare neck. Jafar's teeth seemed to pulsate as he envisioned biting down on that delicious spot of her throat.

Jasmine told him where to turn next and it made Jafar snap out of his pitiful fantasies. She was a child, and he was old and bitter. He was giving her a ride home, and that's as far as it went. After a few more turns the '64 Aston pulled up smoothly to the curb of the sidewalk in front of a white quaint home. All the lights were off, and Jafar couldn't help but worry about dropping her off in the dark in the middle of a sketchy neighborhood. He'd need to wait until he'd seen her walk safely inside the house.

"Thank you for the ride," Jasmine said while unbuckling her seatbelt and picking up her bookbag. Aladdin had indeed been peeved when she took it from his truck in the parking lot and announced her professor was taking her home, instead. But Aladdin would have to just get over it when he was sober enough. Jasmine put the boy out of her mind entirely, and focused solely on the man next to her.

Professor Mākir's features were sharpened from the contrasting lines of night and fluorescent streetlight's. he looked ominous and thinner. His eyes snuffing out any trace of color as they turned into pitfalls of onyx. Jasmine was completely enraptured by their abyss. Her lungs felt tight and her legs pressed firmly together as a rushing warmth pooled between her sex. They were too close to be this alone together. It would be effortless for him to reach over and touch her; pull her by her hair and force himself on her. And the messed-up mechanisms of her heart knew that if he did, she wouldn't want to stop it from happening.

Jafar grinned regally. "It was my pleasure, Miss Sahir."

She smiled and clutched the silver door handle then paused. "Why . . . why did you take me home? Why not let me go on with my night as I planned and ignore me?"

"Because, believe it or not Miss Sahir, I may not be as monstrous as you think. I am ruthless and brazenly forceful when necessary, but I'm a simple man. If I see an impressionable young woman being led down a path of destruction, and if the opportunity arises for me to intercede, then I will. Simple as that."

Jasmine smiled and he smiled back. Her breath catching hard in her throat.

"Now perhaps you can do something for me?"

Jasmine nodded and couldn't help but think of all the things she would gladly do for him if he asked her to. (Or at least, all the things drunken Jasmine was willing not do.) But most of her intoxication had wavered by this point, and Jasmine had to accept the fact that it was her emotionally unsolved issues that led her to lust after a man she'd otherwise come to hate.

"I have a study session each day, for an hour after four pm, in my office. Students are free to come if ever they have questions on assignments or need a little extra guidance in their studies. I'd appreciate it if you took the time to come as well; at least until you feel comfortable enough with the material."

He didn't act smug or condescending, but gentle and genuine in wanting to help her. Just as he'd helped her tonight to avoid incarceration and possibly a DUI. There was no way to deny his request, and she gave another simple nod, and a sheepish smile.

"Okay. Thank you again for the ride." Jasmine climbed out and closed the door. She gave a flicker of a wave and hurried inside her home feeling his heavy eyes bearing into her as he waited for her to step inside. Jasmine opened the door, gave a nod to indicate her safety, and closed the door as quietly as she could to not disturb the sleeping household.

Jasmine hurried up the stairs, pulled on her pj's, brushed her teeth, and climbed into bed - all while keeping a smile that made her cheeks sore and eyes squint. Maybe it was sleep deprivation that brought on hysteria, or the remnants of a long day of partying. But whatever the reason Jasmine couldn't stop the tickling flutter at the back of her throat and the warm anticipation of her quavering nerves. The entire week she had dreaded seeing the scowling face of her Professor and today she'd been dead set in dropping out. But _now_ . . . Jasmine hummed to herself and closed her eyes sleepily. A vision of Professor Mākir stood before her with a secretive smile and a delicious scent of cologne, wine, and spices. All the things that were _him_.

The second week of college couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

 **LyDarcy – you make me smile and get all excited to write! And yes. Jafar is simply phenomenal and I enjoy having him inside my head lol.**

 **Guest – Anomaly still takes precedence but this right now is all I wanted to write about. Eek! So, excited where this is going!**

 **A Reader – thank you so much! And yes, I've thought about expanding on Fresme from this in its own story.**

 **VictoriaJameson – oh Lordy yes, she's whiny but the renewed 1st chapter gives insight as to some of her issues and where they stemmed from.**


	5. Chapter Five

**LyDarcy – So glad you're still enjoying this AU. Always love your reviews. And I will try and do bonuses when able!** **?**

 **Luna Bass – Yes, I have a way planned for Jafar to change his outlook. Unfortunately, that will probably take some time.**

 **Guest – Yay! So, excited to hear you enjoyed the last chapter!**

 **A reader – I know it took a while, but I'll try and post these more often!**

 **Thank you to the new favorites and followers. Welcome!**

 **(Aladdin fans – you may take your leave.) lol**

* * *

Aladdin watched as Jasmine got into the old man's car. An old twat who hadn't stopped staring at Jasmine like she was a piece of meat – a man that looked at _him_ as if the scum of the earth. Jasmine didn't even wave when she slid into the passenger seat of his car, and Aladdin's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, forehead pressing into the horn just hard enough for it to leave an indention on his skin. It was happening again – Jasmine was so close to being his and she kept ripping away the floor from underneath. It'd been that way since high school and evidently, nothing had changed.

When he'd made love to her that Sunday Aladdin assumed that meant they were together this time – she'd finally allowed him to have her; but instead she'd cold shouldered him and had run out of the house the next morning as if he were some vile monster.

She may have been drunk that night but they both wanted what happened – or at least he'd thought.

And tonight, was his night to prove it again; that she wanted him as badly as he did her. They had fun all day. And she let him kiss her twice on the cheek. Of it hadn't been for that fucking croon they'd be back at his place right now sharing in loves greatest pleasures.

An image of Jasmine fucking her Professor instead wormed its way through Aladdin's brain like maggots and he screamed against the silence of his truck; banging his head as he yelled out. The vehicle rocking beneath his tantrum.

Jasmine had driven him crazy for the last time – he needed to confront her with all or nothing, and if she knew what was good for her she'd see what he did. That they were meant to be together once and for all.

* * *

"I just don't understand Jasmine. What the fuck. How the fuck could you do that. You know I was terrified for you last night? That I went out of my mind thinking of the horrible shit that bastard was probably doing to you?"

"My _Professor_." She dryly stated from the sofa, lack of sleep drawing heavy rings beneath her eyes. "Not some random loon off the street with a needle in his arm offering to drive me in exchange for sex."

"Jasmine, it's not a joke. I nearly ran off the road I was so worried about you; you hardly know that guy."

 _Apparently, I hardly know you either._

"You were drunk. We both were. You shouldn't have driven either . . . I didn't care for it much, but Professor Mākir did do the right thing."

Aladdin's reddened face opened in shocked disgust. "Isn't _he_ the bastard you talked about all day? The one that drove you out of class by making you feel like a piece of shit? The reason you finally call me after an entire week of ignoring me?"

Jittery fingers combed through his hair, Aladdin looking deprived of sleep and still intoxicated. He'd shown up almost a half hour ago, pale, with dark circles coating his otherwise youthful eyes, and reeking of booze.

She'd known he was upset when she got her bag from his truck, but didn't think _this_ would be the end result. Jasmine rocked forward, pressing the bunions of her feet into the thick off-yellow carpet. (A shaggy trend from the seventies her father still refused to get rid of.)

"Fucking Christ Jasmine. I mean, do you like abuse? Is – is _that_ what gets you off? An old man with wrinkly balls talking to you like some ignorant whore –?"

"– Aladdin, lower your voice!"

"No, that's your type, isn't it? That's why you left with _him_ and blew me off after I did everything to cheer you up – I can't _believe_ you'd give up what we have for someone like that."

Jasmine threw her hands up, leaning away in shock, "What _we_ have?"

 _What the hell was he talking about?_

"You mean . . . our _friendship_? Because if so, Al, none of _this_ is being a good friend."

Spittle flew from his mouth in mock laughter. "Friendship? That's real fucking cute, isn't it? Friendship my ass."

She shifted trying to breath slowly to calm her rising anxiety. He was flailing his arms, and stomping around like a rhino ready to charge at her. Would he _hit_ her?

"Yes Aladdin," she stood careful to keep a safe distance and speaking in calm hushed tones, hoping it would convince him to calm down too. "We _are_ friends Aladdin, and I like having you as a friend, but I don't understand where this is coming from."

Or at least she didn't want to acknowledge where it might stem. Jasmine knew he'd the hots for her over the years, but they were never close, and she'd never given him reason to believe they had anything together.

 _Unless_ . . . the night she couldn't remember actually had ended in sex. In which case, there was a whole other issue to address. (One Jasmine couldn't handle at the moment.) Forgetting a mottled memory was easy – speaking truth to it made it real. And reality was often tormenting and full of disappointment.

"Jasmine I have loved you since I saw you at your freshmen orientation." He stepped around the coffee table and she moved smoothly back on her heel to keep the distance. "I know I'm older, but . . . that means I've had more time to know what I want and don't. And Jas I want you." He cooed reaching out for her hands and gripping the tips of her fingers before she politely pulled them away.

Jasmine kept her body closed off, arms crossed, legs pressed tightly together and feet pointed towards the nearest exit in case things went wrong. It was barely six am and she didn't think anyone was awake in the household – which was probably for the best.

"I'm flattered you love me Aladdin. I mean – that's always a wonderful thing to hear. And I care for you too." Jasmine paused with a gulp. "But only as a friend."

Flickers of smiling, frowning, glowering, and brusque laughter, ensued all at once. As if Aladdin were seven different people in one body – all of which held conflicting moods and contorted morals of how to approach each wave of emotion. When he looked up, the pale light of the room darkened his dominant brow line, casting dark eyes into the shadows. His hair was stringy and falling over his face. Nostrils flared and teeth glinted as he spoke with malice.

"You just think you're some goddamn princess, don't you?"

Jasmine winced, pulling in a little more. "What?"

"You think you're better than everyone else – that your pussy is so fucking good that any cock you jump on will follow you around like a puppy dog begging for whatever scraps you'll give them."

 _Shut up, shut up, shut up_. They _did_ have sex that night. Fucking hell. She was a whore. She was disgusting. Oh, god it hurt to hear. Acid twisted at the back of her throat as she wielded her eyes shut.

"Well guess what – you were a lousy fuckin' lay, anyway. Just a needy pathetic daddy's girl. Men want a real woman – not _this_ ," he spat, tearing her apart one malicious word at a time. Aladdin stepped to her feet and Jasmine froze; gathering tears blurring her vision as she forbade them to fall. "You don't deserve my love – heartless bitch. No wonder your mom died, she couldn't stand having a cunt for a daughter." He hissed against her face, hard liquor ripe on his soured breath.

Aladdin picked up his tattered sweater, stormed through to the front and with a force that made the flower vase wobble, slammed the door behind him – Jasmine's face closing with the sharp shatter that assaulted her ears.

Jasmine gulped twice, finding her throat dry and hard with a painful lump. Jasmine angrily swiped the scattered tears from her face; the adrenaline now settling in the form of anxiety in the pit of her gut. Everything he'd said replayed on a loop –all she should have said in response, but couldn't, taunting her simultaneously. Jasmine breathed shakily, gripping the back of her arms as she settled onto the floral printed couch, and rocked herself back and forth.

True or not, she didn't deserve that – at least not all of it.

And to add salt to the wound Jasmine could no longer pretend nothing happened last Sunday. She was labeled as a drunken whore – and there was nothing she could do to change that blacked-out moment. She should tell someone: Esmeralda, Papa, Ariel. But that would only be bringing more people into her embarrassing dysfunction and make it even harder to forget.

Instead, Jasmine swallowed it down like she did all pain, burying it beneath the surface until it was a small balled up piece of tin foil, hard and cold in her chest. The house fell into silent submission once more, the cold winds a few hours before now stagnant as the sky awaited the sun's first light. Jasmine drowned out the harsh words, the faded memories of him climbing on top of her, until there was nothing left but static and darkness around her.

* * *

Monday morning came with a wave of relief. Jasmine needed as much distraction as possible from the horrid weekend she'd endured. After the tormenting stunt Aladdin pulled, Hamed, that night at dinner, had sprung a rather egregious decision upon her:

 _"Dearest, I've been meaning to speak with you since yesterday. It's about Lucia."_

 _"What about her?"_

 _"Well, there's been a bit of an issue with her rental agreement."_

 _"Such as?"_

 _"It's up in three weeks . . . and," he paused, whiskers bristling as he sucked in his lips with hesitation. "Well, the complex is raising her rent by two-hundred a month. Point being, she can't afford to stay there any longer."_

 _Jasmine stilled, knife halfway through the chicken as she froze, refusing to meet her father's expectant eyes._

 _"Now darling – I'd never do anything without your permission. This is your home too."_

 _Shoulders pulled forward as Jasmine arched her back into a tense stretch. She smiled wanly and shrugged. "Okay then. I guess that's that."_

 _"Dearest." He took both her hands in his and smoothed the backs of them. "I'm not going to do anything you are uncomfortable with. I can help Lucia make other arrangement if need be."_

 _He looked so pitifully sad as he spoke and Jasmine wanted to be selfless. She thought of moving out eventually, getting somewhere closer to the college possibly with Esmeralda. But she hadn't expected to do it so soon. And she would most certainly have to leave once Lucia moved in. Not because Jasmine hated the woman – it was too painful to see her take mama's place._

 _"I want you to be happy daddy."_

 _Hamed's large brows waggled. "Sweet princess, I'm only happy if you're happy."_

 _"So, it's settled then!?" Jasmine jumped from the table with over exuberance, and kissed the top of his balding head. "I so glad you see things that way too, Papa. I'm sure Lucia will have no problem finding a place of her own, yea? You're the best. Love ya!"_

She wasn't proud of how she'd handled it and the choice now settled like a rock, spun out of crystalized guilt, in her stomach. Popping antacids was starting to sound like a good idea. Still she hoped it would blow over, with her father and Aladdin, and that everything would go back to normal soon enough. All she had to do was keep busy in the meantime and not think too much on any of it. Jasmine made it to Chemistry on time, keeping her eyes low as she passed through the door.

"Good morning Miss Sahir."

She looked up surprised and smiled as genuinely as was able. "Morning Professor."

Mākir smiled tightly back, probably all he was capable of, but it was a pleasant greeting either way, and Jasmine eased a little. Hopefully her escapades the other night wouldn't add to his disapproval of her existence.

Class went smoothly. Jasmine took notes, writing down everything said, and everything on the board and the cliff notes in the textbook. She relaxed in her chair, thankful the only problems she had to solve at the moment related to the laws of thermodynamics and elemental compounds. Before she knew it, it was already time to leave.

"There will be a paper due by the end of the quarter, so start thinking about what which element you want to research, and email me your choice. To ensure no one has to suffer through two of the same project, each of you will need to choose a different element. A first come, first serve sort of deal." Jafar paused for effect, pleased with a couple groans that emanated from the back row.

"So is this like, a writing assignment. You're not gonna grade it like a literature type class, right?" A boy who resembled a stereotypical stoner had mumbled from somewhere in the fifth row.

"Is this a college level course, Mister Burnaby? Then it's a college level paper."

Jasmine hid her smile beneath her knuckles, writing down the assignment and highlighting it in pink and green. For once she wasn't the recipient of a derisive one-liner.

"Email me your choices as soon as possible. Now. Get out." He ordered as darkly as possible and the students heeded the warning, packing up with lightning speed and rushing off. All except Jasmine of course, who smiled at him, not the least bit phased by his gruff demeanor.

"Can I help you with something, Miss Sahir?" he asked dryly.

Jasmine packed up her bag with a carefree attitude. "Not at all Professor Hard-Ass." She quipped and he shot a scathing look that could send Satan to his knees. But Jasmine saw the man who had rescued her from a DUI and a drunken fool, and his penetrating glare hardly pierced the skin. "Too much, too soon? I get it. Being called out on something can be a little agitating." She shrugged, "See you in lab, then."

"I'll see you this evening, as well, Miss Sahir?"

Jasmine turned back around to face him. Professor Mākir put away papers in the same black leather case he always had, long clean cut fingers thumbing through the slots and slipping sheaves in accordingly. He was so precise and organized – Jasmine wished she had a similar approach to life. Maybe then she'd find herself in less traumatic predicaments.

"I planned on it." Her bag slipped off a little, pulling her blouse with it so her shoulder was revealed.

Jafar paused, chest tightening as he espied her strong collarbone and soft cinnamon skin. He wanted to run his tongue over her shoulder and up her neck. With jaw, clenched Jafar lengthen his spine. "Good. You need it."

"Only thing is, I start working next week, and I'm not sure how often I'll be able to come then."

"Whatever you can manage."

He began eyeing her darkly and suddenly she didn't feel so invincible. Aladdin's words came flooding back to her, and she could only imagine it was what everyone thought about her as well. A drunken-louse. A loser. A childish nobody. Jasmine's face fell into a flat line and she headed for the exit.

"So, long as you're actually missing my session for work. And not for a party." The venom was coated with honey. Jafar cutting into her tender heart without actually saying the words she knew he thought. "And if you find yourself with idle hands, I'll be more than willing to conjure up some extra work for you. To avoid temptation and all."

That was it! She couldn't take hearing anymore from anyone, anger igniting beneath her self-pity "Listen here mister, _oh_!"

His cane shot behind her lower back with agility that startled her, keeping her from falling backwards as she bumped into his chest – _and_ holding her in place against him. Her lips parted, hands splayed across his sinewy chest, the soft silk of his dress shirt tingling beneath the swell of her fingertips. His cologne was different today – dark and strong, like him. Jasmine dizzied, breath shallow in her chest as they searched each other's eyes; gold flakes standing out around his dilated pupils. Sucking her in like a black hole.

He softened, realizing the error of his ways as her large stunning eyes watered. Admittedly he'd been overprotective, jealous even, when he had found her with that rat in the store. But it wasn't his place to insert himself where he didn't belong. "Forgive me, Miss Sahir. I was out of line."

A tiny noise caught in her throat like a small purr and made both of them freeze. Jafar's brow shot up and the corner of his mouth ticked.

"Uh I mean, its fine," Jasmine pulled away, Jafar composing at their departure and cane grounded in front as she walked backwards. "And umm, I will be. There. With you. In your office. Tonight." She ran into a podium, nearly knocking it over. "Shit – Sorry. Yes. I will see you there, sir. But not drunk this time. Although, that might make it more fun." Jasmine laughed nervously with a cheesy grin.

Jafar blinked impassively and it made her more jumpy.

"Not that I've been drunk, I'm not admitting to that. Just a joke. You know what. Doesn't matter. I'll be there ready to learn. And you can do to me whatever you please. Er, I mean, whatever methods you have to help – _tutoring_. Not sex or anything."

His composure broke, wide eyes and a baffled smirk breaking his mask. Jafar coughed into a fist to hide his laughter, and Jasmine stumbled again, stammering an apology.

Jasmine pulled at the back of her neck with both hands, grimacing with half her face pinched shut. "Am I still allowed to come?"

"As long as you understand there is no exchange of goods, of **any** kind, for tutoring, then you're more than welcome, Miss Sahir." He smiled crookedly with an easy nod, "I'll see you tonight."

Jasmine thanked him and hurried out with as much dignity as possible. Trying to cool her heated cheeks before Lab started. Albeit Jasmine was relieved to have gotten any awkwardness out of the way before their study session. Now it should be fairly easy to relax and focus on work and not her hundreds of other little problems.

* * *

Professor Mākir's office was utterly intimidating, though mildly held an enchanting welcome. There was a massive dark polished desk in the middle of the room, an equally large window directly behind it. With bookcases on either side of the room, there were also three large office chairs, an elegant red and gold Persian rug beneath them, and a sculpted, gold hourglass on the left-hand corner of his desk.

Seriously, what was his deal with _time_?

The walls were a dark burgundy, trimmed with an off-white border, and all pieces of furniture were practically black. A theme of colors that were almost cliché to his character. Still, it was beautifully decorated, and Jasmine sat down in the far-left seat, entranced by the hourglass in front of her.

"Do you like it?" His voice was smooth and velvety, calling from behind as he walked powerfully around to his desk.

"Yes. It's really beautiful." She crossed her legs squirming a bit at how he was watching her. "Are any others coming?"

He sat behind the desk, fingers laced in front. "They trickle in throughout the hour. Don't fret Miss Sahir. You won't be alone with me for very long. Shall we begin?"

She nodded and dismissed any sense of insecurity. Settling comfortably against the grandeur chair provided.

Their first session went surprisingly well. True to his word other classmates and upperclassmen trickled in and out through the duration, and it hadn't been awkward at all. Jafar was pleasantly helpful when he wasn't being a jerkoff, and Jasmine found the extra help so beneficial that she continued to come back every day since.

By the second week she even felt comfortable enough to slip off her shoes, sit criss cross in the chair, and silently work across from Jafar. A few times she would even stay later than the other students, to which Jafar never protested. He would simply read from one of his overgrown, ancient looking texts, and wait for her to ask questions.

"Knock, knock," Esmeralda tapped on the door post with her knuckles, smiling coyly at Jasmine and Professor Mākir. "Am I interrupting your alone time?"

She'd been so engrossed in her notes Jasmine hadn't even noticed the time. She flushed, turning around in her seat. "Of course not. I'm almost ready."

Esmeralda stepped in, hugging books to her chest and taking large scans of the decorated room. Jafar watched her from the top of his lids, pausing momentarily form scratching red ink on the papers he'd been grading.

"Nice office you have Professor."

He leaned back crossing his ankle over his knee. "You like it then? Most find it – overpowering."

"Nothing wrong with a little power." Esmeralda quipped, brazenly sitting on the right corner of his desk. "Are you treating my girl good? I feel like she spends more time with you than me."

"Miss Sahir is proving to be an excellent student, is all. But we certainly wouldn't want to upset the best friend, now would we?" He smirked and Esmeralda laughed in a pitchy, girlish manner.

Jasmine turned every shade of pink. Not from embarrassment, but from irritation. _Why_ their flirting irritated her she'd not the faintest clue. It wasn't like _she_ wanted to hit on the Professor, but still.

"Jasmine starts work tonight at NaNa's Café. Have you ever been?"

He shook his head and shot a look to Jasmine. Who then looked away immediately and started to pack her bags, trying to hurry before Esmeralda said too much.

"It's the sweetest little restaurant. Mainly coffees and muffins in the daytime, but for dinner it's usually got a line out the door waiting for Mimi's home cooking." She winked at Jasmine, failing to pick up on her cues. "Anyways, Jasmine has never waitressed before so I'm getting everyone I know to come tonight to show her support. Isn't that right Jas?"

Jasmine threw on her pea-coat and scarf, put her boots back on and tossed the bag over her shoulder. "Unfortunately, yes. Thanks Professor, see you tomorrow. Esmeralda." She gestured to the door with a nod and started ahead of her.

"Say that you'll come Professor Mākir? It'll be better than sitting alone at home grading awful papers." Esmeralda traced a finger over the half-graded work in front of him. Jasmine rolled her eyes and stomped her foot.

"Esme, the last thing he wants to do is come and watch me make a fool of myself. Now can we go?"

Jafar smirked menacingly at the notion, dark light glinting in his eyes as he looked Jasmine over, then acknowledged the girl still on his desk.

"Actually, that's a pleasant idea. Perhaps I'll stop by for some coffee and finish grading there."

"Perfect!" Esmeralda jumped off the desk with a vivacious grin and strutted out of the room with head held high. "Jasmine will be so excited to have her favorite Professor there."

Jasmine pinched the bridge of her nose and squinted her face.

Esmeralda pulled an innocent façade. "What? You called him that, not me. By Professor! See you soon. Jas, wait up! It's not that bad."

Esmeralda laughed linking arms with Jasmine and heading down the empty hallway; a straggler or two the only ones that passed by as they walked.

"I can't believe you did that to me." Jasmine shook her head rolling it back with indignation.

"Oh, come on. You've had the hots for him ever since he took you home that night. And that was almost two weeks ago. If you haven't gotten your arousal under control by now you probably never will."

 _This is why you shouldn't tell Esmeralda everything._ Another reason why she'd left out the part about Aladdin's meltdown and how they'd had sex when she was blacked out. Too much information could be overwhelming and Jasmine didn't want to throw that on Esmeralda.

"Alright, I think he's attractive." Jasmine admitted gravely. "But that doesn't mean anything will happen."

Esmeralda gave a sideways look. "Do you _want_ anything to happen?"

Jasmine scuffed her heel, kicking at the tile. Of course, she didn't. It wasn't ethical or even realistic to want an older man. Especially one that was her instructor. It would be fraternizing and, even a one night stand, would end poorly for them both.

"I just want to pass and get out of his class as soon as possible. And one day get out of this town." She grumbled the latter.

They both fell silent, Esmeralda sobering and deciding taunting wasn't a very good approach at the moment. Jasmine had been acting downhearted lately, as if something truly heavy weighed on her. But anytime she'd ask about it, Jasmine replied with the cliché, 'I'm just tired,' and fake a smile to add to her statement.

"Jasmine." They stopped before the exit doors facing each other. "I'm gonna ask again, so please don't get mad. But . . . What's wrong? And don't keep lying to me either. Please."

Jasmine crossed delicate arms over her chest. What wasn't wrong would be a better question. Then again, she didn't know if she had a right to complain. Aladdin made sure to engrave that into her skull. She didn't want to be a whiney petulant child who everyone secretly despised deep down. But all these secrets started to morph into an overgrown absinthe; threatening to burst open with a whole lot of ugly.

"Papa is wanting to move Lucia in with us." There. That was one thing she could talk about that wasn't too traumatic.

"Oh honey." Long arms wrapped around Jasmine's shoulders, the embrace warm and strong, yet causing Jasmine to upset even more. Sometimes a hug only made things worse.

Jasmine broke away before she had time to collapse into self-pity. "I told him I didn't want her to. But, he seems so sad now. And they're barely around each other anymore. Like – I ruined their relationship by stopping them from what they both wanted."

It was already dark outside, sundown by five-thirty, and the temperature had dropped below thirty. Fortunately, the café was only a couple blocks from the school.

Jasmine's nose buried beneath the wool scarf, hands in her pockets as they walked side by side. "It's not that I hate Lucia. I just."

"You're not ready to let go of your mom." Esmeralda finished solemnly. "Well . . . what if you and I got a place together? Maybe not being in the house with them, _watching_ her take everything over would be less painful." She started to brighten the more she imagined the possibility. "And we could get a place closer to the college, and decorate the apartment together! Oh, and have awesome parties!"

Jasmine sniffed rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. "I don't know. I thought about it already – just have to make sure it's the best choice first."

"I understand. And listen, my folks' kind of want me to move out on my own anyway and offered to pay more than half of my rent. Whatever it is."

"They have that kind of money?"

"They wanna sell the house soon anyways and can't do that if I'm still living there. Guess they think of it as an investment," she shrugged, tucking wild hairs behind her ear. They stopped at the diner and hugged. "Just think about it. I gotta run home really quick, then Ariel, Eric and I will be back to be one of your first customers."

They exchanged cheeky kisses and parted ways. The idea of living on her own had merit and in fact helped to alleviate another dose of stress Jasmine otherwise held inside. This way everyone could get what they wanted and Jasmine could start to feel a little more independent and a little less useless.

* * *

"Now darlin' you now I love you and your papa, right?"

Jasmine twisted her hands together in front of the lacey apron. The dinner rush hitting hard and embarrassment hitting harder.

"So, during this next few hours, when I yell at you, just know it's all out of love alright?" Mimi, the owner of NaNa's, dug fists into her narrow hips. Lines of years of hard work creased above her brow and into her hair line. Auburn hair pulled back into a bun to accent her no nonsense motto. "I said, _alright_?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Now, listen here. If you drop one more pot of coffee on another customer, its gonna have to come out of your paycheck. I can't keep a business in progress if every other person is threatening to sue my establishment because of your clumsiness. Now, take this tray over to table three and set the food down clockwise. Starting with the chicken marsala and mashed potatoes. Got that?"

 _No_.

"Then I need you to check on table five because they look like they need drink refills, and someone has to cover Addie's table ten because she's nearly three months pregnant and keeps throwing up every five minutes. When your done with that let me know."

Mimi hurried off back to the kitchen, where she started yelling orders out to the head chef and then yelling slanders when he didn't meet the requirements to the T. Jasmine's head failed to wrap around the first thing she was meant to do. Meanwhile, other servers bumped into her, trying to get around to the kitchen and back through the doors to the dining area. They called out "corner," but Jasmine had forgotten what it meant and nearly toppled over someone with a pile of dirty dishes.

"Sorry! Sorry. Oh, excuse me, I'm sorry. Umm, where is table three again? Anyone? No?" No one seemed to hear her, or at least had intentionally ignored her questions and timid demeanor. Jasmine hugged herself and stood there dumbly, hesitating as she looked at the plates of food all waiting to go out. But which was which? And which ones belonged to table three?

"Jasmine! What the hell are you doing standing there?" Mimi lumbered over, owning the entire room despite how little a woman she was. "Do you remember nothing from orientation yesterday? Christ almighty, girl. The tickets are here. When Chef has them ready, he will slide out the yellow bottom half of the carbonless-copy paper. The table number is at the top, and it has the items listed below them. Learn the menu, memorize what each plate has. Then you put them on the tray starting with the top and going clockwise. Then set the plates down in the same order you have them. Understand now?"

She really didn't, and Mimi spoke so quickly it seemed she'd never paused to take a breath. But Jasmine didn't want to lose her job, or go back to orientation and shadowing. She needed the money and tips, especially since she was now considering moving with Esmeralda. Therefore, Jasmine sucked it up, did her best and took out her first tray.

It only wobbled once when she set it on the tray rack – and she'd mixed up the husband and wife's meals – but other than that, Jasmine more or less delivered the first round of food successfully. After that she got into a zone, following everyone else's example as best she could and trying to speak up a little more so people would pay attention to her. Especially the cooks.

Then, when she'd finally felt less incompetent, Esmeralda and five others came through the door, taking a seat in her section and waving to her while shouting. Jasmine turned beet red at catching Mimi's glaring look.

"I'm sorry Mimi, they came to see me on my first night." Jasmine apologized, walking towards the bar where Mimi cleaned out some glass mugs.

"I know they're your friends, darlin'. And I love Esmeralda as much as the next person – but don't be letting them side track ya now. You also just got double sat, and he's a real hard ass with plenty of money, so don't lose focus."

Jasmine peeked around to the other booth; heart plummeting when she saw Professor Mākir take a seat. Hands folded, broad shoulders back and cane strategically set next to him. His hair was shellacked back as usual, three-piece suit complete with a burgundy crisp tie, and polished black shoes.

"Oh no, Mimi. Please let someone else take him?"

"Already can't handle the job, Jas? Look," she tossed the dishtowel she'd been using over a strong shoulder. "I agreed to let you work here because I've known you and your family since you was a little mite. But if you can't handle –."

"I got it, I got it. Never mind." Jasmine inhaled and breathed through puffed cheeks, straightening her spine and heading first to the table of friends.

"Jazzy!" Charming hollered, and Jasmine winced a little at seeing Aladdin's roommate. Thankfully Aladdin had not been with the pack. "How you been baby? Hey. Why you gotta break my boy's heart like that?"

Jasmine paled.

"Leave her alone Charming," Snow swatted his chest lightly and he kissed her cheek. They weren't a couple, but they may as well be. "Jasmine, ignore him. You look absolutely adorable in your uniform. We're all so proud of you."

"Totes," Ariel chimed in, tossing massive waves of red over her back. "We love you Jasmine. Are you having fun? You look like you're having fun. Doesn't she guys?"

Jasmine tensed, holding her notepad against her lap as she gave Esmeralda a look. "And I thought this would be embarrassing having everyone here."

Esmeralda winked then tilted her chin up, rolling her eyes to the side and waggling her eyebrows.

Jasmine narrowed her eyes with a tight smile. "Yes. I know." She mouthed when Esmeralda didn't let up.

"Well I think we will all have a round of waters for now Jas. Don't leave any other tables unattended by talking to us." Esmeralda practically yelled with stage like staccato.

 _Thanks for that. Not obvious at all._

Jasmine jotted it down and uneasily looked over to where Jafar sat. His eyes were already on her, probably had been the entire time, and he smiled in a small way she'd come accustomed to.

Her hand gestured to his seat. "So, you came."

"So, I did." His gold eyes smiled.

Jasmine's cheeks began to hurt, her own smile reaching her eyes and making the buds of her cheeks warm. With slightly trembling hands she pulled the notepad back out of its pocket and positioned the pen. Clearing any nervous jitters from her throat.

"What can I get you, Professor?"

"Perhaps, Miss Sahir, in this setting, you would feel more at ease by addressing me by my first name." He tilted his head to the side, some dark strands of hair grazing above his cheekbones. "As for my meal, I already know what I would like. If that's alright with you?"

She bit her lip, trying to keep from smiling like an idiot. "Alright, _Jafar_." Her tongue zinged with his name and a tightening sensation tugged below her belly. "Ready when you are."

"Coffee black. And a side of fruit."

"Oh, come on!" Esmeralda spun around in her booth, sitting up on her knees and practically leaning over to the other side. "Professor, have a cheeseburger. Mimi literally makes the best in the world. Doesn't she Jas?"

Jasmine nodded cutely, some strands from her ponytail coming loose around her face. "The girl has a point. Sides. It'd be unprecedented if you didn't give me more of a challenge on my first night."

Jafar acquiesced, putting large hands up in carefree agreement. "Very well then. With a side of fruit, and black coffee."

"Coming right up," Jasmine cheered and spun on her heel to leave, ponytail swaying as she sauntered to the back. Acutely aware his eyes were on her.

Jasmine put in the order, took the waters to her other table, and managed to not drop hot coffee in Jafar's lap – despite how her hand shook when pouring the scolding liquid in front of him. She had to applaud herself for her composure, and actually did quite well the rest of the night with all of her tables. Senses heightened and alert; knowing she was being watched by the dark handsome man in the corner booth.

Esmeralda's table ate and cleared out a little past eight, the other tables leaving shortly after. Only a few new customers came in after that and headed straight to the bar. However, Jafar stayed long after he'd finished his food and drank two cups of coffee. He scribbled on countless sheaves of paper, looking up to watch her from the top of his lids here and there before pouring over his work again.

"You know, you're my last table for tonight?" Jasmine wiped down the table next to his, then came over to where he sat. "And it's been a long first day. Any chance you'd be willing to be done soon?"

He gracefully set down his pen, and put away the last set of papers. "Miss Sahir, are you trying to get rid of me?"

Jasmine pulled a face and sat across from him, her knee brushing against his and sending electricity up her thigh.

"I've already tried that once before, remember?"

"Indeed, I do." He nodded easily, blinking slow with a sly smile. "And how did that work out for you, Miss Sahir?"

She leaned forward on her elbows, crossing her ankles beneath the seat. "Honestly, I thought it would have gone a lot better. Apparently, the Dean was not willing to part with one of her most brilliant employees."

He chuckled lightly. "My apologies for the inconvenience, Miss Sahir."

She shrugged, taking the wet rag from her fist and cleaning the spot in front of her impassively. "It's alright. It all worked out for the best, I suppose. Would you like anymore coffee?"

"No thank you, my dear. I believe I'm finished. Besides, if that woman over there doesn't stop staring at me like I'm a predator I may be forcefully kicked out on my backside."

Jasmine looked over her shoulder to where Mimi and Chef were watching intensely. The second she espied their eavesdropping they scattered like cockroaches, heading to the back with sudden urgent chores to attend to.

Jasmine giggled, with a sigh. "That's just Mimi. She's like a second mom to me, that's all."

"I see." He stated dryly, unappreciative that he was being scrutinized by total strangers. As usual. "Friend of the family?"

"She was close to my mom growing up." Jasmine turned grave, chewing her cheek and scattering glances around the quiet restaurant. "After she died Mimi was there for my dad and me more often than not. And not just casseroles and helping clean the house. She was a real part of our lives, and taught me a lot of the things I know."

Jafar remained blank with folded hands.

Dammit. She was doing it again. Acting self-centered and complaining.

"Anyway – here's the bill. Feel free to pay whenever you're ready." Jasmine smiled thinly, slid the dark green book forward and placed a pin on top of it before sliding out. "Thank you for coming in tonight. I enjoyed waiting on you."

Something unreadable, yet malicious, shone in his eyes. "The pleasure was mine, Miss Sahir. Be safe tonight."

"I'll do my best. Goodnight – Jafar."

Jasmine went into the bathroom to splash water on her face. She hadn't talked aloud about her mother in so long that sometimes it hurt like a dull wound when broaching the topic. Droplets fell on the ceramic sink as she used paper towels to pat her face dry. By the time she came out, Jafar was gone, and the book holding the bill was standing up.

Jasmine took the cash he'd left without counting it, and all her receipts from the shift, to Mimi. After cashing out she had earned over three hundred dollars in tips.

"Are you serious?" Jasmine gasped, timidly taking the wad of cash. "There's no way I made that much. Most of my tables hated me, and one even walked out at the beginning. Britanie made only a hundred tonight, and she's the best one." She pointed out still eyeing the cash as if it was the De Vinci Code incarnate.

Mimi shrugged, turning off the kitchen light and leading the way through the empty restaurant. "It was your last table. I told you he had money and not to piss him off. Good work kid, we'll see you Friday? Now that's a crazier shift than Wednesday's. And we stay open til midnight too, so bring your A game."

Jasmine agreed then left through the front door so Mimi could finish locking up the rest of the café. Jasmine thumbed through the bills in her hand, uncertain if she should be angry and offended that Jafar gave her so much money, or if she should be singing hallelujah and starting to pick out apartments with Esmeralda.

Jasmine shoved the cash in her bag, and huddled into her coat. Some light snow started to fall and the streets had become rather desolate with warnings of icy road conditions in the forecast. It was half past ten and Jasmine hurried down the sidewalk a little quicker, the eerie silence and bitter wind setting her on edge.

"I told you so. Little princess Jasmine always getting her way."

The voice called just before she reached the gate of her house. Jasmine slowly turning around to see Aladdin leaning under the light post with a dark glaring scowl.

"You know, I thought about coming in to see you tonight when the gang asked me to." He scoffed with a venomous smile. "I practically was on the front steps of the café when I see you flirting with that old bastard again. You nearly fell down under the table to suck his withered-up cock."

"Aladdin." It sounded as a ghostlike whisper, Jasmine's throat growing narrow and dry. "I tried to call you the other day to make sure you were alright. I – I don't want us to be enemies. It makes no sense."

"There's plenty that doesn't make sense, Jas." His tongue ran over the front of his teeth, making his chapped lips protrude and a squeaking noise break through. "You know I still love you. Right? We're supposed to be together."

Gooseflesh pimpled alone the back of her arms; a chill that numbed her toes and made her fingers stiff. This wasn't like him – at least not any part that she had seen before. He'd always been a little flirtatious, maybe slightly off in certain ways. She knew he'd had a rough childhood, but so had Esmeralda, and she turned out just fine. Maybe he was drunk again, he'd been drunk the other week when he broke down like a maniac. It was the only explanation.

"Let's go get some coffee in you?" _Help sober your crazy ass up_. "And then we can talk?"

Aladdin shook his head and pushed off the post, keeping arms crossed and standing bandy-legged, like he may topple over any moment.

"Just remember I was here for you. That I love you even when you didn't deserve it." A finger shook at her, a long moment passing before he spoke again. "You'll see one day, Jasmine. And when you come to your senses it'll be too late."

Aladdin turned away and slipped into the darkness, the snowfall picking up heavier, adding to the relentless chill coursing through her. Jasmine picked up the pace and slammed the door shut, locking both deadbolts and slipping the chain on as well. She should tell Esmeralda, at least, that Aladdin was off his rocker. Then again, it wasn't something she couldn't handle on her own, and she had to stop running to everyone else with every little problem that came her way.

Jasmine cleared the idea of calling the cops, or calling everyone in her phone, and headed upstairs to take a hot bath and prepare for bed. The sooner she moved the better. It would only be a fifteen-minute difference, but any added distance would be beneficial. She made the final decision; tomorrow she'd tell her father the plan, and start looking for a place with Esmeralda in the morning. And also confront her Professor about the enormous tip he left behind.

* * *

 **Thank you all for the continued support. I apologize for how long it's taken. I'm currently going through some things (all good stuff) and its been rather distracting and occupying. Please give me your constructive criticism, and let me know either way how you like (or dislike) the story.**

 **(Remember this is AU and a little OOC, which is my intent especially with Aladdin. No one flame me for it please. Ha-Ha.)**

 **XO**


	6. Chapter Six

**Sorry for the delay. Explanation simply this: Single mom life stuff. Recently had a baby for another family (I'm a surrogate). And now am back in school and working full time.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

-Mid September-

The wet grit of the sidewalk crunched beneath knee high winter boots where the girls stood. Esmeralda smushed together broken remnants of a muffin to form a ball while Jasmine apprehensively re-read the overhead building letters. _Palace Deluxe._ What a ridiculous name for an apartment complex with black iron gated balconies, red bricked walls, and feeble windows that'd long since been outdated. It was far from _luxe_ in any sense and would more aptly be named _The Echoing Chasm_ or _Weeping Willow Grotto._ Anything to advertise the loss of hopes and dreams.

"Maybe we can get our application fees back before he processes them? Could really use that thirty-five dollars for a pair of work shoes instead." Jasmine unwound the scarf from her hands placing it around her neck, still musing over better fitted names for the woeful looking complex. "Sides, we really shouldn't settle on the first place we found. Seems little impulsive."

Esmeralda crinkled the now bare cellophane tossing it in a nearby trash bin. "Did the fumes of stale cigarettes and laundry detergent stunt your brain cells while we were in there? This is _hardly_ our first option – in fact it's our last good option unless we want to look outside of the city."

Esmeralda was right: the inside of the complex did consist heavily of aged smoke and flowery detergent. Probably imbedded in the foundation since the 1920's – when it was first built. The manager had said Palace Deluxe was recently renovated but clearly not well enough to banish the evidence of when it'd served as a speakeasy. Another reason why Jasmine was on the fence about this place.

"Twelve hundred a month though Esmeralda, even with the help of your parents that's steep."

"Right – about that. The 'Foster-lings' aren't gonna be able to help out as much as originally planned. Don't worry! They're still helping, just can't afford half the rent like I'd said."

"All the more reason not to settle too soon." Jasmine really wanted to go back inside to get their money back but Esmeralda stopped her.

"There's never a good time for things to change but they are changing. Our house is already on the market and Lucia is moving in with you in what? A week? This is the best one we can find on our budget and look," she gestured with wide arms, "Campus is literally up the street from us now. Bus stop a block the other direction and downtown - with the best shops and clubs - is less than a ten-minute drive."

"It's a chunk of money. With student loans on top of it and food, utilities." Jasmine felt the making of an aneurism building the more she listed off issues on each finger. "I guess I can pick up extra shifts at the Café though."

"See? And the dance studio is willing to hire me back again full time. We'll work hard – then _play_ hard." She winked nudging Jasmine in the side and linked their arms together heading across the street to a coffee shop.

With restless unease Jasmine cast a parting glance back at the apartments, which may or may not become their home, and surrendered wanting her thirty-five dollars as well as to rename the apartment.

* * *

A carrot cake and two hot chocolates were delivered as they sat across one another by a large window that overlooked the street. Jasmine had to admit she rather liked this part of town. Despite some older buildings it was clean, with a safe homely feel to it. There were even autumn decorations on each light post and fenced white barked trees were plotted along the walkways. Palace Deluxe stood directly across the coffee house and Jasmine studied it over the brim of her cup. Looking upon it now the idea of living there steadily grew on her. It wasn't so bad really.

True, it would be difficult but this was part of growing up and would so be worth the effort. Jasmine could even apply here to work instead of making the twenty-minute commute down to Nana's. For now, she'd put a pin in that.

"We need a car."

Jasmine choked, a bite of carrot cake assaulting her airways. "You're suggesting we get ourselves into more financial strain? I don't think it was _my_ brain that took a hit after all."

"Nothing fancy – old but reliable. Plenty people from my old neighborhood fix cars up all the time like that; we could get a good deal." Esmeralda dipped a finger into the cream cheese frosting and sucked it clean. With a grimace Jasmine pushed the plate away.

"That side of the cake is officially yours."

Esmeralda went on too excited to take note. "The nights you don't get off 'til after the buses stop running are nights you can take the car. And we'll have it for emergencies, stuff like that and oh my god road trips would finally become a possibility."

"Still that adds gas, car insurance and maintenance costs. It's just not realistic."

"Well...Maybe the brilliant professor will stop by your place of employment again, and leave another generous donation in your honor?" Esmeralda steepled her fingers on the coffee cup speaking theatrically prim. Jasmine snorted lifting her eyes heavenward.

"I knew I shouldn't have told you about the tip money. At any rate, I doubt he'll be stopping in again." She tried not to sound disappointed. "It's been a week since and honestly he hasn't even acknowledged me in class one bit. I think I made things awkward. I sort of got all down and talked about my mom to him," she gave a smile that lacked genuity. "Doesn't matter."

Esmeralda leaned back offering a thoughtful expression. "What about the tutoring sessions?"

"Haven't gone back actually. Been working a lot more evenings than originally planned but with Addie having severe morning sickness Mimi has been short staffed. It's for the best – I think I was starting to annoy him with how much time I spent in his office those last couple weeks. I'm pretty hopeless when it comes to … well, most subjects."

"Whatever you're completely brilliant you just don't give yourself enough credit." Esmeralda licked the cocoa from her lips adding, "I'd give anything to have that man tutor me and I'm not even taking chemistry. Next semester though."

How did they even get onto this topic? Jasmine crossed her knees, vying for a new subject.

"How bout we start thinking of furniture and decorating the apartment? Papa is giving me a spare dining table we have in the garage and one of the sofas. We can get the rest from a used goods store?"

* * *

\- Mid October –

Approximately a month had passed since Palace Deluxe called with good news: out of five other candidates they'd been selected to be the new tenants of flat 416. Two-bedroom, one bath, and a balcony that overlooked the town park and mountains.

The flat had to undergo some heavy cleaning before they could move in. The carpets had been replaced with hardwood floors along with a few other renovations; such as putting in new light fixtures, countertops and kitchen appliances. Jasmine was pleased to hear the complex was also getting windows from this century installed.

Tomorrow was finally moving day and couldn't come fast enough. Esmeralda had been sleeping over the last several days sharing an air mattress with Jasmine since all their possessions were outside in the moving van. Plus, Lucia had moved in about a month ago and was absolutely driving Jasmine batty. While still feeling torn to be leaving her father Jasmine needed her own room back and some peace of mind. Jingling bracelets announced Esmeralda's entrance into the room as Jasmine typed away on her laptop.

"Hey … so, thought I'd let you know I signed up for the internship Mākir had talked about before, the one for chem majors during the winter break? Just sent my application in an email to him." The air mattress dipped, Jasmine's laptop wobbling, as Esmeralda plopped down in front. "And I really think you should apply for it too."

"Uhh, last I checked you're not a Chem major and I'm a Chem _failure_ , so your kinda dreamin' there, Esme."

Esmeralda held out the pamphlet turning it over for Jasmine to look at. Which she didn't. She was trying to finish her midterm for Mākir on their element of choice; an assignment Jasmine had forgotten about up until a few days ago and presently every paragraph was turning out worse than the last. (Which further proved that she should not apply for an internship in this field.)

"That's the best part – it's not limited just to chemistry." Esmeralda rambled on, "There are schemes that focus on chemistry related areas like environment, sustainability, ethics, medicine, and political science. Two other department heads go along with Mākir too. Maybe this will help you find your niche and it's in freaking Australia, Shanghai and Dublin over the two and half week break."

"How much?" Jasmine was forced to pay attention seeing she couldn't coherently write anything while Esmeralda yammered on.

"A couple thousand dollars – but wait there's assistance in paying it off to those who qualify and we definitely would. You fill out an extra form through the school as low income."

"Then wouldn't every student be filling that form out?" Jasmine handed back the pamphlet.

"A lot of the kids applying have mommy and daddy's money so no. Anyway, what could it hurt? If we got to go travel other parts of the world while figuring out our passions, for _free_ there's nothing to lose."

"Debatable, considering I was planning to binge watch old black and white Christmas movies and order takeout in my pajamas every single day during break."

Esmeralda spoke slowly as if concerned, "As tempting as it sounds to sit around with unwashed hair and greasy noodle sauce on your face for twenty days, I vote for my plan."

"I planned on washing my hair." She muttered. "Just not _every_ day."

"Deadline for applications is this Friday, so chop, chop buttercup." Esme swatted Jasmine's thigh. "You've got a week to choose between your best friend or a love affair with James Stuart and Edmund Gwenn." Esmeralda scooted around to sit directly beside Jasmine, who resumed her typing. "Can't believe we're moving tomorrow. Room looks so weird without all your stuff in it."

They both scanned the bare room; it seemed smaller somehow. The pictures and dangling lights from childhood were all gone. There was a spot where Jasmine spilled juice as a toddler on the carpet. Til now it had always been covered up with a purple rug and staring at it made Jasmine feel heavy inside.

"My mom used to lay in here with me and read me stories every night before bed."

Esmeralda scooted closer, wrapping both arms over Jasmine.

"Her hands always smelled like garlic. I don't know why I remember that but I remember it more distinctly than anything else. And when I was sick is when she would clean the house really, really good with bleach and still when I smell either of those things I think of her."

"Garlic and bleach. We should bottle it into a perfume." Esmeralda pulled back to give a smile but Jasmine remained downtrodden. "I wish I had moved here when she was still alive. I'm sure she was incredible."

"She would have loved you that's for sure."

They sat silently, heads leaning into one another for comfort. Jasmine was reminiscing inwardly of all the moments spent in this house when Esmeralda started to shake with a tender laugh.

"Remember when we ran away in eighth grade?"

Jasmine smiled. Naturally she remembered but allowed Esmeralda to tell the story as if for the first time.

"I came for a sleepover and we were convinced we were old enough to travel and see the world. That no one was going to tell us what we could or couldn't do. Your dad found us at a gas station well after midnight, but didn't freak out. Not even when he found out we'd stolen Twinkie's from clerk. I remember Hamed being so calm and loving; he went inside to compensate the owner and when he came back out he also had two hot chocolates for us. Remember that?

He convinced us to get in the car because he promised he would take us anywhere we wanted. Even would buy our plane tickets if that's what our hearts truly desired. But then when he asked us where we wanted to go we both said –"

"Home." Jasmine finished and Esmeralda nodded against her head.

"This was more home to me than mine ever was, Jas. Hamed has been like a dad to me too – but now I get to live with my sister and I couldn't ask for a better roommate."

The girls embraced full on, Jasmine finding her emotions on shaky ground as it were and held back tears. It wasn't just the change in living situation. Everything that'd happened with Aladdin was a current weight on her heart, as was college, work, and letting go of the only role she'd been good at; i.e. looking after her father. But it _would_ be okay. It had to be.

Hamed rapped on the opened door the same way he always had whenever entering Jasmine's room. The girls smiled up at him. "Dearest. Esme. Sorry to interrupt but I ordered some pizza for you just like old times. And uh – well I thought, we could watch Willy Wonka downstairs too. You know like when you girls were little and had sleep overs. But if you don't want to, I know your grown now and,"

"Papa we would love nothing more than to spend our last night together with you. And Lucia." The latter proved difficult to say. "We're just finishing up talking."

James open and closed his mouth fumbling for courage. "Esmeralda, dear, would it be alright if I had a moment alone to talk to Jasmine?"

"Sure thing, Hamed." Esme struggled to gracefully clamber off the mattress. "But if I get to the best seat first I don't want to hear any complaints." She chastely kissed Hamed on the cheek then bounded down the stairs where Lucia, to Esmeralda's dismay, had already taken up the preferred seat.

Hamed's short round fingers wove together repeatedly as he spoke. "Dearest I've been thinking . . . this wasn't fair of me to ask of you. Leaving and all."

"You didn't ask papa. I offered to move out."

His white beard bristled beneath a guilty grimace. "Lucia has been living here a few weeks already and you girls have gotten on fine together. She's really quite fond of you, ya know. Maybe you don't have to leave – maybe we can be a family together . . ." He trailed off at the pained look his daughter gave.

"Papa I just can't. Lucia is great but it's just one too many people. Besides," She clambered off the mattress the same way Esmeralda had, and came to take his fidgety hands in hers. "Esmeraldas' parents already sold their house and we signed a year lease. It'll be closer to the college, and it's not like I moved cross state. I'll see you often – I swear."

They embraced because tears had filled both of their eyes. Hamed kissed her temple then held her at arm's length. "You look so much like your mother. She would be so proud of you darling. A successful college student. A hard worker. Always making the right choices to better yourself."

God, the accusations were so untrue it soured her gut and left an acidic taste at the back of her throat.

"I just want you to know I'm proud of who you are and the woman you've become."

"Thanks Papa. And you're sure you're happy with Lucia?" The question was meant to sniff out any hint of discord in their relationship. But, Hamed had smiled with his eyes when assuring all was well and Jasmine relinquished her hold over his well-being. It'd been a decade that she'd looked after her father and now that role was no longer hers. She had to move on.

The doorbell rang promptly with pizza and Hamed exited downstairs. Jasmine remained behind to finish her Chemistry paper, typing up the last two paragraphs with a clouded mind and pressing print – it would have to suffice – before she headed downstairs to spend one last night in her childhood home.

* * *

Moving Day fell on a Monday which meant Jasmine was not only missing Chem Lecture but the Lab as well. She had emailed all her professors that she was not able to make class today and all replied more or less empathetically. She was able to scan her Algebra homework to send over email as well as the paper she'd written for World Mythology, which she quite enjoyed doing, unlike the Chemistry one. Mākir, on the other hand, couldn't make anything easy and had written back in short reply that Jasmine needed to turn in her work in person, and points would be docked each day that it was late. He also reminded her that attendance was twenty percent of her grade as was the lab work – which could not be made up.

Jasmine had half a mind to email something highly disrespectful back but instead put her frustration into the laborious amount of work it took to move boxes and furniture up four stories.

Papa, Lucia, and a neighbor named Mark all helped the girls and still it had taken up the entire day. By sunset everything had been brought up and they parted ways with final goodbye kisses and hugs. Before long, it was just the two exhausted, sweaty women sitting in the bare floor with leftover pizza and energy drinks.

"My body is already so damn sore. No wonder professional movers are always buffed out with rippling biceps and washboard abs."

Jasmine dug pepperoni out of her teeth with a pinched expression. "I'm pretty sure that's not at all what movers look like."

"In my fantasy they do. Their shirts ripped off as they carry our stuff in." Esmeralda sat up from laying down taking a bite of pizza then gathering it to one cheek. "And then, when it's all done, hats when they offer to massage you with oil."

Jasmine released the power drink with a cough. "So these are movers from like a porno or something." She laughed, "because I'm pretty sure none of that has ever happened to anyone in the span of mankind."

"Wow crush the dream. I can tell you'll be a fun roommate," Esmeralda stuck out her tongue and laid back again in exhaustion. "I'm not going to school tomorrow. I plan on being sick that day and maybe the day after."

"I can't miss anymore. As Professor Mākir reminded me my grade can't afford it."

Esmeralda's neck doubled up as she tried to look at Jasmine from the floor. "Hey did you know Mākir used to be married?"

"Oh?"

"Yeah – might just be rumors but I think he had a wife a long time ago. Maybe a kid even. I read it in one of those magazines but it was based out of Europe so I don't know how accurate it is." She gave a sniff of her underarms then let out a whistle. "Yup that's ripe. Gonna shower first if that's okay? Maybe you can put on a pot of coffee, dear, like a good house wife should do?"

"Oh, I'm the wife in this set up?" Her tone was that of a fifties housewife as she said, "In that case yes. Anything you say darling."

"I'll make myself look good for you for our first night here." Esmeralda called from the bathroom. "Gotta keep the misses happy so you don't get tempted to leave. Fifty percent of roommates break up in the first year, ya know."

"That's _spouses_."

"Same thing. Hey." Esmeralda stuck half her leg out between the bathroom door, fuzzy socks pulled up to her calves as she pointed her toes and worked her leg back and forth in a falsely alluring display. "If you play your cards right I'll even consider shaving one of my legs, just for you."

"You're a dork you know that?" Jasmine laughed as the shower turned on.

"And you signed a year lease so no backing out now." Esmeralda shouted back before climbing into the shower.

Jasmine stretched out her lower back before carrying a couple more boxes to her room. She dug out her backpack and laptop, making sure her midterm was neatly in a folder to give to Mākir tomorrow. Jasmine made the bed and placed a framed picture of herself, her mom and dad on the nightstand. By the time the shower was free Jasmine had already passed out sprawled across the mattress.

* * *

"Who gives out a quiz on a Tuesday?" Megaera groaned taking another step following the line of students as each placed their work on Mākir's desk before exiting the classroom. "We didn't even go over half the stuff asked."

Jasmine kept her voice low stepping alongside Meg. "He makes things difficult that's for sure."

"If he wasn't such a piece of god damn eye candy I'd have switched professors."

"Are you failing?"

Megaera snorted derisively, "No. I've an A. He tells me constantly how brilliant I am in the feedback he writes on my work."

It took everything not to roll her eyes. "Then why would you want a different instructor?"

"You're right I don't. But if I did switch classes I'd be allowed to bone Professor Mākir." Megaera ran the tip of her tongue along the crest of her mouth suggestively and recovered by the time she landed at Mākir's desk, addressing him in a sing song pitch. "Professor Mākir, I'm not going to lie to you. This was probably your most challenging quiz yet and I thoroughly enjoyed the challenge. Keeps the mind sharp for the week don't you think? I only hope I did half as good on this as I did on all the others."

Professor Mākir cocked a brow unimpressed. "I don't doubt you surpassed expectations yet again, Miss Artino."

"Some people complained the questions weren't covered in the lectures," Megaera tilted her head towards Jasmine behind her, "but I informed them all the answers were stated in the reading material. Some of us just appreciate the opportunity to be your pupil more than others I guess."

 _What kind of shade was that!?_

"See you tomorrow, Professor. Jasmine." Megaera smiled haughtily and Jasmine scoffed letting it go.

She set her quiz atop the stack of papers then scooted out of the remaining students way as she fumbled through her book bag for the writing assignment. A few lingered with random questions before departing so Jasmine waited patiently, the assignment pressed to her chest as she scanned the classroom walls disinterestedly. Finally, Mākir turned in his chair with an upturned palm, taking the heavy packet with a flat look. He skimmed the first page then jadedly thumbed through the remaining ten pages. Jasmine shifted anxiously unsure if she was dismissed.

"Is this your best work then, Miss Sahir?" Mākir asked in that deep silky way that clouded Jasmine's mind. But the fact that he hated her work without even reading it promptly cleared the fog of arousal.

Dropping her shoulders back she lengthened her spine. "It's the best I could do with this sort of assignment, yes."

" _Wrong_." He stated simply, dropping the packet out of the air with a smack. Mākir's forearm rested atop his desk as he leaned forward. "Do you know how I know this isn't the best you could do?" The question held a painfully obvious answer. "It is because _seventy-nine_ students from this class came to me at least once in the course of the last two months to ask for assistance with their midterm paper. And _seventy-nine_ students turned this in to me on time. Except _one_." Mākir's ringed pointer finger flicked up from the desk and she sagged slightly.

"Even during those two weeks you spent in my office not once did you ask for help with this assignment. And then you simply stopped showing up altogether. Unless you no longer need my assistance because you have mastered the subject – and if your grade is anything to go by that is not the case – there is no reason you should have discontinued your tutoring. Nor should you have turned in a paper done so haphazardly when I provided ample time to complete it. _Explain_ yourself, Miss Sahir and quickly." Though he remained seated Jasmine felt as if he had towered then pounced on her, his knees digging into her chest.

"I umm," she played with the necklace around her neck, dragging the charm back and forth along the chain, the other hand drawn across her stomach. Mākir blew a huff of air calming his voice.

"Is it my fault?"

Almond eyes snapped up.

"Is it because I visited you at work? You stopped coming to my office after that night." Mākir's heavy brows gathered in. "I should have apologized sooner to you, Miss Sahir. It was inappropriate and my intention was not to make you feel unsafe or uncomfortable with me."

"What, no!" Her mouth turned into an uneasy smile then fell flat. "Of course, you didn't make me feel that way. I actually enjoyed seeing you that night."

His pinched face opened between a cross of relief and surprise. Jasmine stammered in continuation.

"It's not you. I…I'm just." _Distracted with: work, Aladdin, losing my childhood home to another woman, moving, and I forgot about the assignment because in the scheme of life this doesn't make my priority list._ "I'm not cut out for this class."

The acknowledgment came as a surprise but once it slipped out Jasmine accepted the facts.

"I thought I was smart enough for this course but clearly I'm just… _not."_ And that wasn't all. "I'm bad with time management, I suck at multitasking and organization skills and honestly there's just too much going on in my life right now for me to care about chemical reactions; because last I checked that's not going to help pay my bills, or drive me to and from work, or keep this asshole creep from showing up at my house at two in the morning – drunk. And it's not going to bring back my mom or give my dad back his health or help me figure out where to go from here with my life and I just couldn't care less about this class or any of the other classes that I'm taking."

Jasmine caught her breath then forced it past her lips. It felt good to finally unload the burdens she'd been bottling up inside the last few months. Too bad her Professor had been the audience.

A thick brow rose. "Is that all?" He asked silkily.

She bowed her head then mumbled, "This last weekend I spilled hot tomato soup on a customer, then smacked another in the back of the head with a tray on accident. Mimi had to take it out of my tips to compensate them both with a free meal . . . and then I dropped a knife as the Chef was walking by and it nearly went through his foot. They made me leave early, for everyone's safety."

The vast room closed in with silence and then a low rumble caught in Jafar's chest and slowly grew to full on laughter. He coughed in his hand failing to stave his amusement when Jasmine looked up. Mākir's cheeks reached his eyes, each beautiful tooth revealed in that smile and Jasmine concluded she loved his laugh – even if it was devised at her expense. Jasmine puckered her lips crossing her arms indignantly and he sobered clearing his throat as he tried to wipe the grin away.

"I umm. Eh-hem." He chuckled once more straightening the neatly stacked pile of quizzes before looking up fully recomposed. "Miss Sahir, I would like to take you to coffee."

Her stomach flipped, arms easing down to her side. "What? Why?"

"To go over this assignment with you and as a last resort offer my services to help you succeed. We can have one on one time without the intrusion of other students to brainstorm the best options for your college career and if by the end of our meeting you still feel you cannot succeed we will discuss necessary actions to take from there."

Jasmine began playing with her necklace again mulling over the options and the fact that she'd just made a fool of herself by divulging way too much personal information.

"Alright, I guess that'd be okay. I have off this Friday if you're available then?"

"I'll look forward to it." With a small pleasant smile, he inclined his head. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

Jasmine headed for the exit adjusting her book bag as she fought to make sense of what just happened.

"And Miss Sahir," Mākir stood with hands clasped in front. "Do not talk about yourself in such a demeaning manner again. Especially not in my presence. You're very capable and intelligent and any other preconceived notion is a _lie_."

The pulse in her throat quickened. Licking dry lips Jasmine said, "And a liar is one of the two types of people you can't stand," recalling the claim he'd made that night in the supermarket. Mākir's smirk grew and Jasmine smiled demurely. "I'll try to keep that in mind. See you tomorrow, Professor."

* * *

"For the last time Esmeralda, it's not a date." Jasmine reiterated from the bathroom winding her hair into the mouth of a curling iron. "It's not a date." Jasmine repeated it this time into the mirror.

It was the same pep talk she'd given to herself all week to help calm her roiling nerves. For the most part she successfully convinced herself it wasn't a date; because in reality, it wasn't. On the other hand, each time Jasmine sat through Chemistry or saw Mākir passing in the hallway her stomach twisted, feeling hard like overcooked scrambled eggs because she knew at her core this was a date.

"You're right it's not a date. A sexy Professor is simply picking you up, at night, to take you out on the town." Esmeralda appeared in the reflection of the mirror holding up a little red dress. "Fun fact for ya, offering to help a student decide what to do about their classes is _typically_ the job description of advisors not Professors. Not to mention he wouldn't give two shits if any other student was failing yet for some reason he's clearly invested in you. Hence, you need to wear this dress. End of discussion."

"I'm not failing – yet. And I am not wearing _that_ ," Jasmine groaned theatrically, "we're going to get coffee! I'll stick out like a sore _red_ thumb in a place where everyone else is wearing beanies and over-sized sweaters."

"You're planning on going to some poetry-reading-jazz-listening-coffee-shop where everyone snaps their fingers in some pretentious form of applause?" Esmeralda now called from Jasmine's room spreading the pencil dress on the bed. "If I know Mākir and – considering I read his biography and several articles about him – I do, he isn't going to take you to some cheap coffee place. A man like that calling after a woman like you has definitely got something classier in mind."

The smell of burning hair filled the bathroom and Jasmine swore loudly, releasing the overcooked strands thankful she'd caught it in time. "I don't know why I'm even agreeing to this. I should just drop out until next semester. I could work double shifts and start getting myself in order first."

"Don't be ridiculous. As you said you're not failing yet and next semester will come with its own set of problems too. Finish getting ready, imma get you my favorite earrings to wear."

Jasmine finished the last bits of hair until all of it was a beautiful mass of curls. She rechecked her makeup in the mirror finding zero flaws in it. The only faults she had apparently lied beneath the surface. If the condition of her heart could be visible to the outside world it would probably be a hideous sight; and that's why Jasmine looked away unhappy with the reflection.

"Alright babe just don't lose these kay? They're seriously my favorite thing – what's wrong? Oh honey stop," Esmeralda pulled Jasmine into her arms careful not to mess up her hair. "No tears you'll ruin your makeup, silly girl. Is it your dad? Is it me? Is it because I forgot to refill the toilet paper roll again?"

Jasmine chuckled, carefully removing the specs of tears. "I just feel . . . like I'm ungrateful or ugly hearted. Someone kinda told me that a while ago and it's been eating at me ever since because I know they're right. And now Professor Mākir is singling me out, giving me special treatment and I don't deserve it. It's not as if I ask people to do things for me, or expect it. Least not consciously. I'm just gonna end up letting Mākir down anyway. I'm just a horrible person."

"Who the hell told you that?" Esmeralda's green eyes were on fire, "I will literally cut them. Doesn't even have to be me – I know people."

"Please don't do that." Jasmine pulled a face trying to calm Esmeralda's flinging hands. "It doesn't matter, forget I said anything."

"You're right it doesn't because whoever called you that is mental. You have a loving heart and you care about your friends and family more than anyone else. You're a good person Jasmine so put it out of your head. Kay?" Esmeralda led her. T the band to the other room then held up the little dress. "Put it on. Your knight in shining armor will be here soon."

"It's not a date," each word was pronounced with strong resolve despite a contradictory blushing grin. "But I'll wear the dress if it'll make you happy."

"Trust me, _I'm_ not the one this is gonna make happy."

* * *

All week Jafar had given serious consideration of canceling his ridiculous plan. Taking a young beautiful girl out at night for _tutoring_? Though he fully intended for this to be academically focused, deep down Jafar had been driven by ulterior motives. It'd been torture not seeing her after class the past month, therefore, when the opportunity arose for an evening alone together, the invitation tumbled out before he could think better of it. Still there he stood outside flat number 416 with every chance to walk away and send an explanation over email. Yet, being too weak to do the right thing, he knocked on the door anyway.

There was slight movement on the other side then voices. When the Sahir girl opened the door with a dazzling smile Jafar was enraptured by her beauty. Thick raven hair cascaded freely down her slender neck and back in large silk curls, emanating a celestial scent of flowers and honey, while her dress – God help him – clung to every delicious curve of her hourglass figure. He devoured her with his eyes, dragging them over the curve of her hips, the dip of her waist and the swell of pert full breasts; a plunging neckline revealing creamy supple skin. She was a weapon that could take him out with the snap of her fingers and he wanted to let her. Wanted to lick her neck, suckle at her breasts and dig into the meat of her thighs with his teeth. He needed to be buried in her scent. To own her, claim her. Break her apart while making her scream as she came on his –

"Good evening, Miss Sahir." He said smoothly. "You look very lovely."

Lush red lips smiled as she looked down at herself. "I know it's a bit much for coffee, I'm sorry. I can change before we go?"

"You're perfect as you are, Miss Sahir." He wore a veil of calmness but tightly gripped the top of his cane. "I hope you don't mind but there's been a change of plans. I find myself _hungry_ and was hoping you'd join me for dinner instead." Though food was the last thing he had on his mind. "Have you eaten dinner?"

"Oh…umm, no. Dinner sounds just fine." Jasmine turned and the green-eyed girl appeared with a shit eating grin, "I'll be back later, Esme."

"I won't wait up," Esmeralda gave a cheeky kiss, waggling her brows. "You two kids have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do – unless it feels good in which case I highly encourage it."

"Stop now." Jasmine mouthed with back turned to Mākir as she slipped into a black pea coat.

Esmeralda pretended not to notice. "Just so you know, Professor, this sort of thing," her finger circled the air, "is the fantasy of every college woman."

"Okay then, we're leaving, buh-bye now," Jasmine ushered Mākir out. She tried to escape before Esmeralda could mortify her further but failed to shut the door fast enough before the words _naughty_ , _schoolgirl_ , and _condoms_ made it through. Jasmine's cheeks colored but Mākir looked unfazed.

"Sorry about that," she apologized as they walked to the elevator. "I didn't suggest anything like that was happening between us or ever would."

Dark orbs espied her out of the corner of his eyes before staring straight ahead. "Calm yourself. I would never make such an accusation of you, Miss Sahir."

The elevator doors opened and they rode the floors down alone. He felt her eyes on him and wondered what she saw. The ugly shape of his nose. The lines about his face that proved he was old. Did he terrify her or spark something like desire the way she did him? Obviously not – he was a mean, calloused git of a man. She agreed to tonight for one purpose only and he needed to remain professional above all else. To act upon any of the fantasies running through his deviant mind would lead to ruin for them both.

"After you." Jafar gestured falling behind her as they exited through the lobby. The swell of her tight ass beckoned his attention and he worked his jaw averting his hungry gaze.

This would not be easy.

* * *

They drove several miles past the city limits before pulling up to an extremely lavish looking restaurant. Jasmine didn't even need to step inside to know that she couldn't afford to use their restroom much less order something off the menu. Professor Mākir opened her door and she stepped out as elegantly as possible, holding her clutch like a security blanket. He handed the keys to the valet and they entered through the double glass doors.

The host, a gentleman in a white suit and tie with shellacked auburn hair, greeted them with an enthusiastic grin. He seemed to know Professor Mākir well by the way he lit up and addressed him respectfully by name.

"Benvenuto, Gusto. Come stai oggi?" Mākir responded in fluent Italian but Jasmine had tuned out their conversation – despite how sexy it sounded – to gawk as she peered into the dining area.

Soft mint green, white and gold hues meticulously splashed the décor of the restaurant; from elegantly clothed tables and high-backed chairs, to the patterns of the polished marble floors. The structure was shaped like a vast corridor with a dome ceiling and high arches that bounded along the path of the layout. Climbing each white walled post were lush vines that stretched from the base to the top of the arch, the tips of their veins dispersing where the new set of vines began. And there were candles _everywhere_. From the entrance where she stood Jasmine estimated there to be a few hundred easily. On the walls, the tables, and at the ends of strategically spaced, vine-like, chandeliers. And somewhere in the distance a string quartet played soft melodies. It was majestically beautiful.

And highly inappropriate for her to be here with a teacher.

This was where Professor Mākir wanted to go over chemistry notes? They drove miles outside of the city to the most romantic eatery for a freaking tutor session? Maybe he did this sort of thing with all his students and figured it to be a norm? In her world, however, this was where someone came to propose. (Though clearly there was no need to read into things.) If he brought his worst student here he undoubtedly did this for those who actually deserved it – like Megaera.

"Signora, Signore. Please follow me." The host bowed stepping out to lead the way.

When Jasmine remained staring, mouth agape, at the intricate chandeliers a strong hand was pressed to the small of her back sending a shiver down her spine.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" His words melted over her like oozing honey. He was too close. "After you, my dear."

Miraculously Jasmine managed to follow Gusto without tripping over her own feet even as she continued staring wide eyed about the place.

"Here we are. Best seat in the house as always for Signore Mākir." Gusto revealed a gapped tooth smile. Ah, so Mākir _did_ come here often.

"Your coat, Signora." Gusto gestured pulling her from the disappointing thought as she handed over the pea coat.

At the round table they took their seats across one another. A short-stacked candelabra sat between them with white fresh flowers wound by the stem around the metal. There were four sets of glasses per guest and more plates and silverware than one person could possibly need during a single meal. Gusto poured each a glass of iced water as Jasmine rubbed the backs of her arms scanning the vast room. She didn't belong here.

"Will it be the Avignonesi Occhio di Pernice Vin Santo di Montepulciano, for you, Signore?"

"Thank you, Gusto." Even the man's 'thank you' sounded harsh but the host didn't seem to mind and turned next to Jasmine.

"Red wine for you as well, Signora?"

Jasmine smiled coquettishly, "Actually, that does sound –."

"She'll have iced tea for now Gusto, thank you." Mākir shot a foreboding glare her way and Jasmine rolled a shoulder.

"Was worth a shot," she mused.

"Perhaps you can use some of that daring inhibition towards your classwork instead, Miss Sahir."

Jasmine teased saying, "My way is usually more fun," but his calculating severity forced her to suck in her lips and find interest in the décor around them instead.

A server interceded on Jasmine's behalf by breaking the stiff silence with prompt arrival. The glass of wine and iced tea was placed on respective coasters, as the older woman jumped into a clearly rehearsed dialogue.

"Welcome to La Bellessima Costa, my name is Sarah, have you ever been our guest before? We serve Italian, Seafood, Mediterranean, European, Vegetarian, Gluten Free and Vegan Options." Sarah addressed Jasmine more so, seeming to already know Mākir had been here before. "This week's special is a rack of lamb crusted with dried fruit and risotto fregola with pumpkin flowers, saffron, and prawns. Our special changes weekly and we only serve the freshest meats and vegetables from local organic suppliers. We serve five course meals, appetizer, soup, salad, then entrée and dessert. All options are listed but if there are any questions you have please let me know. Are we celebrating anything special this evening? No? I will get the champagne flutes out of the way. Might I suggest our linguini shrimp scampi with our white wine sauce? It has a lemony –."

Dear lord did the woman even stop to breathe? Jasmine squinted in an attempt to see if any air was being pulled in.

"We will need a minute to look over the menu." This time Mākir was the one to rescue Jasmine stopping Sarah before she began another spiel. "In the meantime, the Prosciutto e Melone, will suffice for the table."

Sarah gave a tight-lipped smile while turning away as if offended to have her monologue cut short.

"I think she might take her job a little too seriously." Jasmine said when Sarah was out of earshot. Mākir deliberately rose a brow and Jasmine got the feeling this was not going to go well tonight. "Least she won't spill tomato soup or drop a knife on anyone tonight." Her humor needed work, at least for this audience. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little nervous."

"Am I making you nervous?"

Jasmine pressed her thighs together digging the heels of her hands into her seat as she hunched slightly. "I don't really belong here, is all. I mean the nicest place I've ever been to was drive-in by a lake that my mom took me to."

At that moment a woman near them harrumphed loudly forcing Jasmine to look over at the derisive snort that'd been directed at her. She felt like walking out and getting a cab home.

"Miss Sahir did you know I grew up in an impoverished home? The first half of my life was grueling even at the best of times but I didn't let that fact, nor the opinions of pretentious, old hags, who come from old money and have never understood the term hard work and dedication, make me feel inferior." Mākir's eyes fell pointedly to the woman at their right. Her mouth soured as if sucking a lemon and she turned away nose in the air. "If someone like myself has every right to be here, Miss Sahir, then you do as well. And yes," Mākir leaned forward with a casual smirk, "that woman does take her job too seriously as do most who enter this establishment."

Jasmine felt she could relax for the first time all night and let out a grateful sigh as they shared a brief smile. The prosciutto and melon appetizer was brought, each of the thinly sliced pieces rolled then stacked in the shape of a large blooming flower. They placed orders for their soups and salads and entrees. Mākir ordered the chef's special and Jasmine the linguini shrimp scampi.

Every course was better than the last and Jasmine fought the urge to make animalistic sounds as she ate. After a year of bland dinners at home and the past week eating microwaved noodles in a cup, this meal was the closest experience Jasmine had ever had to an orgasm.

"Another glass, sir?" Sarah asked then filled it a second time. She also replaced Jasmine's tea, this time bringing out a raspberry flavored one. "Have we decided upon dessert?"

Jasmine pulled a face at Mākir. If she attempted another bite of anything the hems along her dress would probably split open.

"We have some work to go over for now and do not want to be bothered the remainder of the evening. I will signal you when we're ready for the check." Mākir's sharp tone had excused her.

Jasmine felt slightly sorry for the woman but when Mākir gruffly said her name self-preservation took presidency. She sat upright, hands folded together on the table as he pulled papers from his briefcase.

"Miss Sahir, would you care to look this over for me. As you'll see I've marked the necessary corrections and suggestions. Those written in red express _great_ dissatisfaction."

Jasmine's heart squeezed as she flipped through the first two pages. "It's _all_ in red."

Jafar pressed a ringed finger to his lips to keep from smirking as he watched through narrowed eyes. As Jasmine scanned the packet she looked more and more defeated with each page. The packet flipped closed and she pushed it away with a frown.

"There's not even a grade."

"What grade do you think you deserve for this level of work?"

Thick sooty lashes flickered as Jasmine peered up at him then back down again dejected. "An F."

"Are you just saying that or is it really what you believe you earned?"

What kind of game was that? If she guessed correctly could she get extra credit? "No higher than a D." Jasmine pushed off the table to cross her arms and lean back in the chair. She crossed her legs too and brushed Jafar's calf with her foot. "I could have done better. I guess. I did forget about the assignment until last minute."

"You _what_?"

"And I didn't care about the topic I was researching. Like in World Mythology I had a midterm paper due, the same day actually, and I got a B plus on that one because I actually gave two shits about the subject."

Mākir's jaw worked and Jasmine shrunk into herself at the energy he gave off. He pulled out an empty chair next to him then tapped the table in front. Hesitantly Jasmine obeyed getting up and occupying the space by his side.

With restraint Mākir asked, "What is it about Chemistry you dislike so greatly?"

"It's all numbers and technical stuff and has nothing to do with me." Wow that sounded highly self-centered. "What I mean is I can't relate to any of it. It's disconnected and dull and anyone who enjoys it must be too." Crap. Their eyes locked and heat rushed from her cheeks down to her toes. "I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean you in particular."

A slender pink tongue flicked over tight lips as Mākir adjusted himself, turning so they were now leaning towards each other. The alluring smell of black berries and nutmeg spice made it difficult for her to concentrate on what was being said.

"Chemistry is the crux of our everyday lives. It occurs in the food we eat, the air we breathe, the complexities that make up your skin, your hair, the sound of your voice and even plays a role in our emotions. Everything stems from chemical reactions."

Jasmine studied the lines in his hand, along with many other things, as he spoke and watched the glint of the ring on his finger. Esmeralda had said he might've been married and while it was on his pointer maybe he didn't want to part from a trinket of his union.

"I'm more of a visual learner," was the most coherent sentence she could muster and even then, it'd come out raspy. Mākir didn't seem to notice.

"Give me your hand."

 _Seriously!?_ A tightening gathered in her core making it hard to fully inhale. She laid her palm right side up in his, drawing closer to see.

"Are you going to read my future too?"

Jafar peered from the top of his lids with a charming smirk. "Some other time perhaps. For the record Miss Sahir if you attended lab now and then you would see that there are visual demonstrations to aid in these lectures, that's what lab is designed for."

"Oh." Jasmine said breaking off as Mākir's free hand delicately drug a finger from her wrist down across her palm to the tip of her middle finger. Lifting his hand, he started again the same way. Every touch performed with an aching featherlike stroke; and as he spoke in hushed rumbling waves each illicit one reverberated between her thighs.

"As humans we are hardwired to seek out each other's touch even before we are born. It is our most fundamental means of contact. To touch another's hand, feeling their skin against yours and the pressure of their fingertips," the strokes became subtly firmer, "It's more than a comfort but a vitality in human development and life."

Jasmine's lips parted, mouth drying as skillful fingers drew gracefully across the sensitive skin.

"Do you know why this is, Miss Sahir?" He locked onto her eyes and the world faded away. "What happens to our bodies and mind is the chemical release of oxytocin. It increases sensations of trust. Compassion. Love. It decreases anxiety and fears. It makes us feel . . . good. Are you going to tell me still that chemistry isn't stimulating enough for you?"

Jasmine felt as if he'd parted her thighs and spread her apart for everyone to see. The ferocity of her pulse strummed in her wrist beneath his thumb – he could _feel_ her excitement.

Jafar blinked rapidly as if dispelling the moment and began easing away.

" _Don't_ ," her plea was a broken whisper when he'd started to let go. "I like you touching me."

A muscle ticked beneath his dilated eyes at her brazen confession. Instead of dropping her hand Jafar tightened the pressure around her wrist and she bit her lip at the sensation; breaths coming shallow and quick. It hurt only slightly then built to a pressure that struck every salacious cord in her body. It was reckless but Jasmine wanted more.

With catlike finesse Jasmine slid a free hand up his thigh and squeezed, forcing a low growl to catch in his throat. "Does _this_ release oxytocin?"

Mākir scowled failing to hide his anger, "What do you think you're doing, Sahir?"

Jasmine feigned innocence in a seductively clouded hum."I'm just trying to learn Professor."

They were inches away now and the smell of his skin reminded her of warm salted caramel that melts on the tongue. His deep-set eyes were hard, blocking her out, but she read between their golden flecks: he was wicked in ways she couldn't imagine. The warning was loud and clear, screaming for her to stop before doing something she'd regret. But that didn't keep either of them from drawing closer. Jasmine's eyes fluttered shut, the warmth of his breath falling on her lips like dried roses and intoxicating heady wine.

Then with a sharp intake of air Jafar threw himself back allotting a gust of dead space between them. Jasmine nearly fell out of her seat as he stood to attention, fixating across the room. Jasmine palmed the cold ache in her chest turning to see what had robbed her of their kiss.

* * *

Slender long legs in a pencil skirt and eight-inch heels sauntered their direction. That was the first thing Jasmine had noticed and frankly it was disconcerting just how perfect the rest of this woman was. Not only was her skin a flawless olive color, her eyes were piercing green like Esmeralda's, and silky blonde hair sat atop her lovely face like that of a pin up doll. Not a single blemish or wrinkle could be found on this creature and even the way she carried herself made Jasmine want to just sit watch. Which is why it shouldn't have come as a shock when Professor Mākir greeted the woman in earnest; taking her in his arms then kissing the back of her hands with a wide smile.

 _That kiss was meant for me!_ Jasmine stiffened afraid she'd said it out loud. However, as the two went on ignoring her, Jasmine knew she was in the clear.

"I was afraid you hadn't received my messages, love. The very least you could've done to confirm is call back. Chivalry is dead I suppose."

"I'm a busy man Aadya, unforeseen circumstances arose." Jafar gave Jasmine an indicating glance. "I'm here now, aren't I?" Large hands clasped in front then opened up in gesture. "Join us won't you, my dear?"

Oh, Christ was this his wife!? Jasmine had groped the man's thigh and nearly kissed him! What the hell was wrong with her!? She blanched feeling physically ill. Aadya noted Jasmine's presence for the first time by peering hostilely at the end of a sloped nose, still standing with prim superiority.

"Is _this_ the circumstance, Jaffy? You're on a date? A little young for you don't you think? Has the dating pool become so dry now that you've the need to dip your toes in a kiddie pond?"

Jasmine's mouth opened and closed wanting to correct the situation but too humiliated to do so. Jafar chuckled taking his seat, this time scooting further away from Jasmine and ushering Aadya to the empty space on his other side.

"This is Miss Sahir, a Chemistry _student_." He emphasized.

 _Right. Because this is not a date._ Jasmine repeated yet again.

"We were just going over some much-needed lessons in a meek attempt to help Miss Sahir's performance. Rest assured we were just finishing up and there's ample time for you to make your pitch."

Aadya let out a breath through fine sculpted lips setting down her clutch which was ten times more valuable than Jasmine's. "Sorry dear," she addressed Jasmine half heartedly. "I've just been trying to get ahold of this man for months on end and understandably was irked to think he'd blown me off again for some, well . . . one-night stand."

Jasmine knew it wasn't directed at her; then again that's exactly what it felt like. Aadya had looked jasmine once over when suggesting Jafar was out on a one nighter and it felt like a deliberate accusation. As if she looked the type to be involved in such a thing.

 _Weren't you just feeling your teacher up ready to pounce on him? Aadya might not be too far off._

As Jasmine inwardly sulked, Professor Mākir and Aadya talked in rather low tones. The blonde beast had some documents pulled out and they went over them quickly enough; though Jasmine was feeling anxious and bored.

 _See. It's not a date. If it were a date there wouldn't be a third-party present stealing away your time together. He's not interested and you have no right to be._

"Done." Aadya announced with the jab of a ballpoint pen. Jasmine's heart lit up at the prospect of her leaving. "That's the hardest I think I've ever had to work for a signature – but what else should I expect from a man as supercilious as Jafar Mākir?"

Jafar scoffed in good humor, straightening the cuffs of his suit sleeves. "Fascinating. Even after you've gotten what you want you still find a reason to criticize."

"It's the way of a woman, love; yet men continue their best to appease us because they know we secretly have the upper hand. Isn't that right?" Aadya looked at Jasmine as if the girl were a lesser form of life, then softened the blow by winking playfully. "It's the same reason you brought her along tonight. Though, with all due respect, it makes little sense. Even if she's from a milieu of destitute proportions its hardly an excuse for her lack of success as your pupil. Nevertheless, here you are wasting your evening and money on a child who has no regard for your sacrifice. A sacrifice I might add that has only been bred due to her incapability to merely try."

Jasmine's blood was broiling hot covering her cinnamon skin in pink splotches. "Excuse me? You don't know anything about me." She might have come off a little too minatory. But what the hell?

"I don't need to know you, dear. I know _him_." Falsifying a porcelain smile Aadya's manicured nails covered Jafar's hand atop the table. "The last two years in a row this man has been awarded the Wolf Foundation Prize as well as the Copley Medal and was most recently nominated for a Nobel. Professor Makir is one of the most sought after and brilliant men of our time yet he's insistent upon teaching the basics of chemistry to those with weak constitution; meanwhile a little girl like you takes his humbleness for granted. I don't understand you, Jaffy. I suppose it's just the philanthropist in you."

Jafar's thumb encompassed the ends of Aadya's fingers with a one-two squeeze. "That's enough Aadya. Now then – we were about to order desert. Care for a slight indulgence?"

Aadya and Jasmine held the other in a vice like stare, unwilling to look away first. Finally, Aadya did but only to affectionately touch Jafar's cheek. "Sounds delicious, love. Over our usual drinks? The little one can have apple cider if she wished to join in our toast."

Jasmine stood, taking up her clutch with false cheer, "Excuse me for a moment, won't you?" Then headed in search of the restroom.

Jasmine trembled finding it difficult to get a grasp on her phone as she leaned her backside against the counter sink. Women spilled in and out in groups of laughter, some sounding intoxicated. Without thinking Jasmine pressed the dial icon and waited for other line to pick up.

This was absolutely humiliating. All of it! The bottom line was she was moronic. She'd made a fool out of herself and worse still Makir had set the stage for it to happen. Hadn't he been flirting when he held her hand like that? Maybe she read too deeply into it all, into the location of their session. He had come here to meet with Aadya and, unbeknownst to Jasmine, she was simply a tag along. All things considered the icing on the cake was that he'd allowed Aadya to talk down to her without one-word against the accusations.

 _A milieu of destitute proportions is no excuse … a one-night stand … a little girl … a charity case!?_

That last part had done her in making Jasmine so furious she couldn't see straight.

"Jasmine?" A sleepy voice broke through the speaker. "Why are you calling?"

"I don't know…" Jasmine stifled an angry sob by biting her lip. The bathroom echoed with drunken laughter.

"Where are you _this_ time?" Aladdin said softening a little. Jasmine told him what exit the restaurant was off. "I'll be there soon . . . but Jaz, I can't keep doing this. Coming to your rescue only when it's convenient for you."

"Trust me nothing about this is convenient, Aladdin. I wouldn't be calling if I didn't need to but I don't have anyone else to call. Not for this." Esmeralda obviously didn't have a car, and even if so, she was too biased when it came to Mākir and Jasmine wanted to reserve the right to be angry. "I'm pissed and I feel like I might break down in front of everyone. I just need to go home. So, can you get me without rubbing it in. Or being mean spirited like last time? I need a friend."

There was a pregnant pause as a heaviness took over his voice. "I'm sorry Jasmine. For before. I'm on my way. Sit tight."

Jasmine hung up without saying goodbye and turned to splash some water on her face. She felt like throwing up for having now brought Aladdin into the mix of things – again after everything – and for how poorly tonight had ended. She still had to go out there and face those two and didn't know if she could handle it right now.

Like a sign from heaven – or hell, depending – another wave of women walked in; four of them with drinks in hand as they celebrated a classy bachelorette party. Clearly the rich weren't above debauchery even in an establishment such as this. Jasmine turned with a sad sort of smile as she approached. All had turned up their noses at her. That is until she started talking.

"Woman to woman, can I ask if this dress makes me look fat? I'm asking because – because my fiancé hasn't stopped making comments all night about my weight and he's out there now with his ex and I just feel like I'm falling to pieces."

"What!" "Are you kidding me!" "That's absolute bull!" "You need to tell him off!" "Tell them both off!" "You're stunning – do you hear me?" "Don't let that man disrespect you like that!" "It's a man's world and us ladies have to stick together."

Shrill voices clamored over the other in unison with indignant bellows. Two of the women gave Jasmine a hug and the woman in the "bride to be" get up offered Jasmine her shot of spiced rum saying, "If it was _my_ fiancé sitting out there with his ex I'd need a few of these. Drink up."

That's exactly what Jasmine planned on and drank it in exchange for more hugging. By the time Jasmine left the bathroom she'd had a few sips of two other mixed drinks and was feeling slightly fuzzy. When she turned around all four women were standing outside the restroom waiting to see who was the alleged horrible fiancé and mistress.

 _Well might as well give them a show. They paid for it._

Jasmine marched in her heels with long confident strides up to Mākir's seat. He had been relatively close to Aadya and parted from her with a jolt of surprise as Jasmine stepped between their seats, took up their bottle of wine and drank straight from it.

"Mm," Jasmine cocked a hip smacking her tongue. "That tastes expensive. You don't mind right, _Jaffy_? Being a philanthropist and all." Jasmine threw Aadya with a wink and marched towards the host with bottle in hand. The cajoling shrieks of encouragement from the bachelorette ladies disturbed the serene ambiance and it only boosted Jasmine's vanity that much more.

"Signora your coat," Gusto handed the black jacket to Jasmine without skipping a beat then caught sight of the wine bottle. "Signora? Signora, I don't believe you're allowed to take that out with you, we have…" Jasmine had already made it out the double glass doors before he could finish.

Biting cold air slapped at her exposed legs and chest but she marched on past the valet and up the sidewalk. Briefly she had struggled to slip in her coat while holding the wine bottle and her clutch. Jasmine read the label slightly unfocused as she trotted. "1980 Laffite? Hmm." Jasmine shrugged swallowing another swill when she heard Makir shout.

"Sahir!" Professor Mākir barked from his belly making her flinch. "What the hell kind of display was that!?" He swore. He never swore. " _Jasmine_ get back here!"

"You want your wine back?" Jasmine spun without stumbling and pressed it hard into his chest. "There. Enjoy your night together."

He held her steadfast by the wrist and she yanked free walking away. Aladdin would call when he was close and could meet her at whatever street this led her to. She'd half hoped Makir had stopped following her, but after he'd hurried to hand the bottle over to the valet girl for safe keeping, he had caught back up again.

"Please don't follow me. I'm going home."

" _Perfect_ ," Jafar bit dryly. This was the last straw. "The car is back the other way."

"No thank you – I've had enough for one night."

"That's _cute_." Jafar scorned with revulsion, his cane grinding into the walkway as they both stopped. "I've had about enough of your tantrums, Jasmine. If you want to be viewed as an adult, respected, taken seriously – I suggest you make substantial altercations to the way you handle yourself. From day one you have failed to possess one _shred_ of discernment for what is acceptable behavior." He jabbed his ring finger at his side. "And it stops _now._ "

"Why did you even bring me here!?" Jasmine whirled to face him, emphasizing with wild hands. "I didn't ask to come here I didn't ask for help! In fact, I told you I hated your class!" She shouted now, "and I hate that you brought me here. And I hate that woman."

"Hold your tongue." _Or you will lose it_.

"Did I say something offensive?" Welcome to her personal hell for the evening. "Oops."

Mākir took on a dangerously serene look of composure, masking everything so Jasmine didn't know what to expect. With a poisonous tongue Makir pronounced each word slowly to better indicate a warning.

"Listen _carefully_. I have little interest in the reason behind your frequent tantrums. The sheer fact that you found a way to intoxicate yourself before also stealing an eight-hundred-dollar bottle of wine from my guest and I, speaks volumes to how truly despondent you must be within. I've concluded that you feed off the adrenaline you get when you misbehave and therefore I will no longer concern myself with your theatrics."

The soles of his polished shoes clipped, every succeeding step numbering the seconds she had left until meeting her fate. Ten. Nine. Eight…

"Believe me when I say this: You have disrespected me for the _very. last. time._ I've been far more gracious with you than any other and my patience, _little girl_ , has just run out." Sharp shoes landed at the tip of her toes, Makir's omnipotent build casting a thick shadow over her. Jasmine clenched her teeth to keep them from rattling.

"Screw you. You don't scare me." Jasmine growled like a whisper and Jafar lowered at the neck.

"You dare provoke me further?"

Their shared air pulsed between them like an electrical storm causing gooseflesh to run up her legs.

"We're not in a classroom full of witnesses this time, Jasmine. I _will_ put you in your place once and for all."

She felt drunk and not on the booze. Her knees loosened threatening to buckle out from under her. "And if I can't be? You'll do what? Get me kicked out of school?"

A derisive laugh emanated behind a vicious toothy grin. "Hardly."

"Then you've met your match old man because there's nothing you can do that will change me." Jasmine purposefully squared up pressing her chest into his warmth. He didn't move away, rather aided to snuff out any remaining space between their bodies.

"I intend to _break_ you," he hissed and her lungs clenched around her heart. "There won't be a safe haven, no person to run to, or deity that can save you from what I have in store. Do _not_ test me."

She should feel terrified – nauseated even, the way she had when Aladdin flipped out on her in her living room and then again outside her house. But this didn't feel the same. It felt … alluring. They hated each other from day one, always struggling for power over the other, but even in those moments there was an unspoken charge, drawing them together. Finally admitting upfront how they felt made the threats seem less of a danger and more cathartic, enticing.

"Then do it." Jasmine purred seductively, and he froze. "I dare you to try and break me, Professor." The flat of her palms climbed over his chest.

" ** _This is not a game_**." He bit through gritted teeth.

"Does it look like I'm playing?" Jasmine felt a bulge grow against her belly and she flinched at the realization. Before Makir had the chance to push away she held him by the shoulders and undulated her body against his, rolling her hips at the base of his erection with a quivering breath and Mākir gasped.

"That's enough, Jasmine." Jafar barked but in truth he was out of his league. He _had_ met his match and needed to run before she devoured him.

"I know you want me." She craned her slender neck to speak against his mouth. "And I want you to punish me for the trouble I've caused. I want to feel _something._ Anything other than what I've been feeling lately . . . Please, Professor."

Fuck – Jafar closed his eyes, his body betraying him as he held her, his cane pressed at her backside as a free hand wound into the curly mass of hair.

"I can't –." He started to say when Jasmine's lips lightly brushed his, forcing his stomach to drop and all the blood to rush to his sex.

*Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeep.*

An old pickup truck horn whaled not too far in the distance and shattered everything. Jafar peered annoyedly over his shoulder, while Jasmine closed her eyes not needing to see who it was. She didn't know if it was worse having summoned Aladdin after everything he'd done, or that she was wet between the legs ready to jump her professor in public. Neither bode well for her character.

"Fuck – I'm sorry," Jasmine broke away, hoping to God Aladdin hadn't been able to see from this distance what took place between her and her professor. Jasmine bounded back towards the restaurant then, looking down both ways of the deserted street, hurried across the road. Aladdin cranked down his driver window and she leaned into it.

"The hell, Jaz? You're here with that guy? What is it with you two?" He sneered in disgust towards the front of the restaurant where Mākir stood watch. "When this is where you said you'd be I pictured you on a date with someone – but not _him_. He gives me the creeps. Probably some twisted psycho who ties women up in his basement and beats them with leather."

"Wow okay. That is my professor, so please don't talk like that. I still have to have classes with him. Secondly, it is not a date." But it was taking an unexpected turn to say the least. "We had a tutoring session is all. He'd already made dinner reservations with another woman that couldn't be canceled and I was more of an afterthought who tagged along." Jasmine patted Aladdin's forearm, pretending the above facts had been easy to swallow. "Down boy. Everything's fine."

"Then I'm picking you up because why? Thought you were upset?"

"I'm failing class is all. Don't wanna talk about it here."

That seemed to satisfy Aladdin well enough. He even changed his sour frown to give Mākir a curt nod. Jasmine didn't turn to see how Jafar had reacted.

"Give me two seconds? Just park over there, I can walk the block with Mākir – gotta go over last-minute questions anyways. Kay?"

Aladdin hesitated as if wanting to argue but acquiesced pulling down another street to park. Jasmine walked back to Mākir, tucking thick curls behind her ear as they blew into her face.

"So . . . When I was in the restroom I sort of called Aladdin to take me –"

"No explanation needed, Miss Sahir." Jafar harshly interjected and it stung. "Tonight, was a mistake in _every_ regard and its best it ends now. In the future, if you desire assistance, my door is open to all my students as is the Chemistry Department. They offer free lessons as well, perhaps more suited to fit your busy schedule."

He was throwing up walls smacking her out of his way and dropping her back into an abyss labeled 'unimportant'. Was he hurt she had called Aladdin? Did he think she had been flirting with him as a trick to get a better grade? She wanted to explain herself – she would even tell Aladdin to go home and stay with Mākir if he'd allow it.

"Glad to see your relationship wasn't sullied with the boy from the last time I saw you together. How gentlemanlike for him to come to your rescue."

 _Wow._ "I'm not in a relationship with him, I never have been and I didn't need rescuing I just called because –."

"Is this the same 'creep' you told me about who 'showed up at your doorstep at two am drunk?"

Crap, she'd forgotten that had slipped out during her rant on Tuesday. "Well he . . . it's complicated."

Mākir's hand shot up. "It's none of my business. And, having endured enough melodramatics from you for one night, I've lost interest in the topic. Class starts promptly at eight on Monday, this time bother showing up if you hope for any chance of salvaging your grade. Enjoy your weekend, Miss Sahir." He said with finality, ending any room she had for debate. He remained unblinking, elbows in and hands grounded atop his cane.

Jasmine hugged herself turning away towards the pick-up truck down the street. The longer she walked with Mākir's eyes searing into her back the quicker her steps became. Jasmine rushed to climb into the passenger seat of the truck as if it's rusty walls were a sanctuary. Slamming the creaky door shut Jasmine hid forthcoming tears behind the sheet of curly hair.

"Ya alright sweetie?"

She didn't trust her voice, "Mm – hmm. Just tired." Jasmine sniffed, deliberately focusing her breathing. "I wanna go please."

"Did he do something?"

"Can you please just drive!?" Jasmine croaked. She bit her knuckles and looked out the window. Blessedly the truck started moving and the city limits came back into view shortly after.

* * *

 **I realize with remorse that there are errors in my writing and I am very sorry for them. I spend countless hours writing (and by writing, I mean editing and revising and reediting) and pieces still slip through the cracks. Bear with me please.**

 **XO**

 **Hope you enjoy this update!**


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